18 June 2012

Sometimes We Get Caught By Storms

 Sometimes, we go to the beach, coming away and resting a while with fellow laborers--just to enjoy the sun and water and sand for a few Sabbath hours.  We don't think of studies, or exams, except to say what a blessing it is that God set aside a day for us to get away from them.  Even though we're all getting our master's degrees because we want to.  We like to study.  We like to learn.  We like to breathe the fresh air, too.

Sometimes, when we're at the beach, we see a storm coming.  We move quickly, and then even more quickly, because that lightning for sure must have been right off shore.  The boats are getting away, and we're trying to get away, too.  That happens in life, too, right?  We see the danger a little later than would have been best, and we scurry and huff and puff and do the very best we can, only to learn we are out of shape.  Dreadfully out of shape.  Maybe it was all that enjoyment of studies.

So sometimes we just don't run quite fast enough, and our only hope is in Jesus.  The wind is whipping the trees so much that we don't dare linger under them, and the lightning is coming fast enough that we don't dare stand in the open.  The rain comes down so hard that we're drenched to the bone in less than a minute flat, and we can only be grateful it's a warm rain.  Especially when we take a wrong turn in the frenzy of the moment, not seeing clearly because of that warm rain and not taking enough time to think because of the danger at our very right hand.

 We keep walking and walking and curving around the wrong way, just sure that around the next corner another path leading back the right way will show up.  But it doesn't, exactly, for quite a while, and then we decide to take the well-traveled path once and the less traveled path once--any path makes all the difference, really.  One says we've been curving around to the left too much.  Another says you can see the edge of a slope over there, and we really ought to find the bottom.  Surely the parking lot was on that side of the hill.

Before long, we just might see a power line, which means there must be a road.  Sure enough, and the road is like a sauna, with the rain on its over-heated surface.  We come to the stop sign.  144th?  Well, we remember the park and its parking lot being on 138th.  We're a bit far out of the way, wouldn't you say?  We'll ask directions at a house--one we can see from the road.  Yes, that will be safer.  Counsel is great, but don't put yourself in overmuch danger when you're seeking it.

They must be nice here.  They're growing flowers.

Sure enough, the woman of the house offers to show us the trail.  In the rain.  She walks with us a short space, but then stops in her tracks.  "Wouldn't it be better if I drove you?"  Well, now that you mention it, that would be nice.  Because sometimes we can't weather a storm on our own.  And sometimes there's nothing to rescue but God Himself, the God who has power over the storm.  And sometimes He does it through someone who doesn't mind her car seats getting wet while she drives the extra six miles or so.  And sometimes He does it both ways.

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