It’s not a thing I say often. It doesn’t occur to me, even when I have the feelings I associate with the phrase.
But tonight. Tonight I took a cab home from work. I had a big package to carry, and it would have been hard to manage the subway, the bus, and the walk to my door. So I took a cab. And I was lucky enough to have a driver who seemed never to have learned the purpose of side mirrors, who seemed to think that switching on his blinker magically opened a path for him. I stopped counting near misses after the tenth one and just closed my eyes and decided to trust — in fate, in divine intervention, in the thing my sister used to say whenever we found ourselves in dicey situations: “Mommy didn’t have us to die like this.”
As for my heart, I much prefer wearing it on my sleeve.