a virtual umbrella
It's been rather 'blustery' outside the past few days. Don't get me wrong - I love rain, and I love it when the temperatures begin to cool down a bit. I guess it's because you get a lull in the heat, but know the summer isn't quite over yet. (It's the really chilly, snow's-on-its-way rainy days that I don't particularly care for).
When I rolled in from work last night no one else was home yet, so I thought I would write a note to the parents, and head out for my walk. I changed clothes, and as I was tying up my shoelaces in the doorway of my bedroom, my dad pulled into the driveway. It had been overcast all day, but about that time little pitter-pats of rain began falling here and there. 'Do you think the rain will hold off 40 minutes so I can get my walk in?' I asked hoping Dad would say yes. He looked outside and replied, 'Yeah, it's kinda dark over there,' gesturing to the east, 'But it's clear to the west. You'll be fine.'
And with that, I was gone. I scrolled to the new Jason Mraz album on my iPod (which I have mixed feelings about, but it's growing on me), and happily lost myself in the staccato beats and lyrical pingpong game that IS 'Mr. A-Z.'
Every evening I walk out to the 'Point' as the locals call it. I take the blacktop road as it twists and turns past summer homes and peekaboo views of the lake. Once I cross over the bridge that attaches our road to a small island jutting out into the water, I'm almost half way. I walk beyond that to the dead-end cul-de-sac and start back. It was just before this turning around 'Point' that the rain began to fall a little harder... and with every step... a little HARDER. It was in that moment I began figuring out how exactly to protect my iPod and cell phone (I only bring it for emergencies), from the elements. Once I'd securely tucked them into the elastic waistband of my pants, I just shook my quickly-getting-drenched-head and smiled. I knew I was in for the long haul, and I'd be soaked when I got home. I actually started to laugh at the thought. 'Isn't this just how today should end? I ended up with ridiculously large shoes after the pair I left home in wore my feet raw. Then I nearly tripped in the clown shoes and fell flat on the floor. Then I locked my keys in my car. Of course I would get caught in the rain today.'
Just then a lucky, dry, car-riding person who I figured lived on the island, turned the corner toward me. Then I realized... It was my dad. I jogged toward the car, climbed inside, and immediately felt the warmth of shelter from the rain. Humor me while I begin drawing the obvious spiritual implications here.
You're on a journey that starts out looking like a good idea. Maybe someone you trust even steers you in a certain direction. So you start out, bouncing along, enjoying life and doing what you know to improve it, when a black cloud stations itself just north of your head. Trouble in river city.
This past Sunday, Pastor Chad explained that trouble is 'neutral.' When we encounter trouble in our life, it offers a choice. We can allow it to point us in a direction to remedy the situation, or decide to go down a wrong path. It's a crossroads, essentially. He mentioned encountering this in marriage. If a man and woman recognize some things wrong in their marriage (trouble), they can decide to talk it out, work through the issues and grow closer, or ignore the problems and set themselves up for failure. Enter a lovely co-worker... you see where I'm headed.
Again, trouble itself? Neutral.
So there you are, standing in the rain of your negative circumstances with a choice to make. Choose to make the best of it; determining that you're going to keep your heart right no matter what, OR melt into the storm.
Fortunately for us, Someone is above the storm, and He is ready to rescue us. Just when we need Him, here He comes around the corner. I guess it's figurative, because He never really left our side. Deciding to let Him work, deciding to keep a good attitude and trust Him, literally welcomes Him to rescue us. And why wouldn't we?
He knows a little something about quieting a storm. And honestly, climbing into the comfort of His companionship warms to the bone.
When I rolled in from work last night no one else was home yet, so I thought I would write a note to the parents, and head out for my walk. I changed clothes, and as I was tying up my shoelaces in the doorway of my bedroom, my dad pulled into the driveway. It had been overcast all day, but about that time little pitter-pats of rain began falling here and there. 'Do you think the rain will hold off 40 minutes so I can get my walk in?' I asked hoping Dad would say yes. He looked outside and replied, 'Yeah, it's kinda dark over there,' gesturing to the east, 'But it's clear to the west. You'll be fine.'
And with that, I was gone. I scrolled to the new Jason Mraz album on my iPod (which I have mixed feelings about, but it's growing on me), and happily lost myself in the staccato beats and lyrical pingpong game that IS 'Mr. A-Z.'
Every evening I walk out to the 'Point' as the locals call it. I take the blacktop road as it twists and turns past summer homes and peekaboo views of the lake. Once I cross over the bridge that attaches our road to a small island jutting out into the water, I'm almost half way. I walk beyond that to the dead-end cul-de-sac and start back. It was just before this turning around 'Point' that the rain began to fall a little harder... and with every step... a little HARDER. It was in that moment I began figuring out how exactly to protect my iPod and cell phone (I only bring it for emergencies), from the elements. Once I'd securely tucked them into the elastic waistband of my pants, I just shook my quickly-getting-drenched-head and smiled. I knew I was in for the long haul, and I'd be soaked when I got home. I actually started to laugh at the thought. 'Isn't this just how today should end? I ended up with ridiculously large shoes after the pair I left home in wore my feet raw. Then I nearly tripped in the clown shoes and fell flat on the floor. Then I locked my keys in my car. Of course I would get caught in the rain today.'
Just then a lucky, dry, car-riding person who I figured lived on the island, turned the corner toward me. Then I realized... It was my dad. I jogged toward the car, climbed inside, and immediately felt the warmth of shelter from the rain. Humor me while I begin drawing the obvious spiritual implications here.
You're on a journey that starts out looking like a good idea. Maybe someone you trust even steers you in a certain direction. So you start out, bouncing along, enjoying life and doing what you know to improve it, when a black cloud stations itself just north of your head. Trouble in river city.
This past Sunday, Pastor Chad explained that trouble is 'neutral.' When we encounter trouble in our life, it offers a choice. We can allow it to point us in a direction to remedy the situation, or decide to go down a wrong path. It's a crossroads, essentially. He mentioned encountering this in marriage. If a man and woman recognize some things wrong in their marriage (trouble), they can decide to talk it out, work through the issues and grow closer, or ignore the problems and set themselves up for failure. Enter a lovely co-worker... you see where I'm headed.
Again, trouble itself? Neutral.
So there you are, standing in the rain of your negative circumstances with a choice to make. Choose to make the best of it; determining that you're going to keep your heart right no matter what, OR melt into the storm.
Fortunately for us, Someone is above the storm, and He is ready to rescue us. Just when we need Him, here He comes around the corner. I guess it's figurative, because He never really left our side. Deciding to let Him work, deciding to keep a good attitude and trust Him, literally welcomes Him to rescue us. And why wouldn't we?
He knows a little something about quieting a storm. And honestly, climbing into the comfort of His companionship warms to the bone.
posted by Amber | 10:31 PM
1 Comments:
AAAAAAAAAAAA MEN!
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