Yesterday I walked down the road to check out the Sandhill Crane nest there.
It was mid-afternoon and it was hot—I mean really hot—like upper 80s hot.
Usually that’s not a real big deal. I mean, we live in Florida. During the summer, I take walks when it’s in the 90s. And I actually like being warm; it loosens up my joints and eases my pain.
But yesterday was different. The sun felt absolutely scorching. It was the kind of heat that convinces you that that sound you hear is the sizzling of your skin frying.
But I made it to the Sandhill Crane nest to take pictures. The mama was still there in the nest, no chicks yet. She sat there with her beak open, her cheeks billowing in the wind. It’s a way that birds, in general, try to maintain their body temperature on hot days.
I took a few pictures and then turned around and headed home.
I almost didn’t make it.
About halfway home, I realized that I was beginning to feel very overheated. My blood sugar had dropped. I was thirsty. I had no energy. And I was afraid that I might pass out. I wanted to stop walking so I could catch my breath, but I knew if I stopped, I might not get started again.
So, I began to pray instead, feeling a bit foolish that it had come to that.
“God, I need your help,” I said. “Maybe if a cloud could pass over the sun for a few minutes.”
Just then, a shadow fell over my path.
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks, maybe a breeze now.” After all, if God was going to answer one prayer that quick, might as well try for another.
Sure enough, the wind picked up behind me. It was a southern breeze so not especially cool, but much appreciated nevertheless.
Just then, the wind grew stronger, shifted direction slightly and now I was feeling the misty spray from a fountain in the retention pond next to me.
I didn’t stop praying the whole rest of the walk home.
At one point I was darting from one tree to the next, to one patch of shade to the next.
Each step I took, I told myself, was taking one step closer to home.
And, always, as I prayed—always as I spoke to God, He answered … whether in breezes or shade, or with that gentle push in my heart. “You can do this,” the voice whispered. “You got this.”
Ten minutes later I was home.
We, as a nation, as a global community, are on quite the rough journey together these days, aren’t we? The Coronavirus Pandemic is very scary and part of that fear comes from not knowing what’s coming next, how long the journey will be, and whether or not we will make it, and what shape will we be in when the pandemic finally subsides.
And it is this fear, this anxiety, that is a constant companion to us these days—not even a companion, but a parasite that latches onto you and sucks the life from your very soul.
Fear says, “You’re going to get sick. Someone in your family is going to get sick. You’re going to lose your job, your life savings. You won’t have enough food. You won’t have enough period. You’re going to suffer and it’s never going to end.”
If one of your friends spoke to you like that, you’d hang up the phone and block their number. You’d get a restraining order and change the locks on your door.
But for some reason, getting rid of fear is a lot more difficult.
Fear is Satan in the desert tempting Jesus.
Fear thrives on creating doubt.
Fear thrives on uncertainty.
Fear thrives by attacking our weaknesses—or in this case, our one common weakness, that intense worry in times of uncertainty and suffering that God has abandoned us, that God is punishing us.
But just like on my walk yesterday, God doesn’t move away from us when we are afraid and suffering.
He moves closer to us.
He was that shade yesterday as I walked.
He was that breeze.
He was that cooling water.
He was that whisper of encouragement.
“Seek and ye shall find,” does not mean that we have to go on some long journey of discovery in order to find God.
It means simply that we have to open our eyes, open our ears, open our heart and see and feel and know that God is already here.
We have never been alone.
God is our constant.
Consider these words from Isaiah 60:19-20, “The sun shall no longer be your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give light to you by night; but the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun shall no more go down, or your moon withdraw itself; for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of mourning shall be ended.”
I love these words.
The Lord is your everlasting light. God is your glory. Your days of mourning shall be ended.
Wow. Now that is a promise. God never makes small promises. What he offers is beyond comprehension. We can’t even visualize or understand fully what He promises, but it’s clear here … He will be our light and our suffering will end.
In the end, God only promises one thing—Himself.
And that is more than enough to get us through any time of trial and heartache and fear.
Open your eyes today. Open your heart. Kick fear to the curb and rest easy knowing that God is here, has always been here with you and will never leave your side.
Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment