Category: God’s Faithfulness

Road Trip

Sun rises over southern New Mexico, painting the canvas sky lavender and pink. On the horizon, a train chugs along the tracks against the backdrop of a rocky plateau shaped like a sleeping dog. My mind records the scene, soon etched into memory.

Our car on cruise control, heads 10 West through a parched land, the property of roadrunners and rattlesnakes. We are not alone. Dozens of heavy-weight semi trucks lumber beside us in the right lane, driven by faceless men behind tinted glass.

I’ve traveled this highway twice before, heading from Texas to California. It’s a long, mostly desolate journey, broken up by welcomed rest stops and remote gas stations. Small towns, hosting McDonald’s yellow arches, are an oasis to weary travelers.

By noon,  our black car bakes beneath the sun’s rays as the dusty wind slaps the car. We pray for safety, and God’s leading as we travel home. Who knows if the car will hold up. Or what’s waiting around the bend. Even the best-laid plans and preparations can go awry.

Confirming our fearful what ifs, we see vehicle mishaps along the interstate. An overturned truck lying in a ditch, an RV stranded on the side of the road, and someone changing a flat tire. Could be us…..

We check directions on the GPS.  How much longer till we’re there? Is there cell phone service? Enough gas?

The cab of a semi truck is being towed. It’s windshield smashed, and written on the passenger door in giant ink: JESUS IS LORD AND SAVIOR. What happened? Is the driver alright? Did he also pray for travel mercies?

Nerves tense. Being a Christian doesn’t prevent “bad things from happening” on the road of life. But like Simon Peter told Jesus when others walked away, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:68).

Not knowing the future, we press on because we know Who holds our future. And we know that  Jesus, our Lord and Savior, is present even in this…………..

A road trip in a dry, desolate landscape littered with small cacti that remind me of sheep grazing  in a brown field.

And the knowing makes me rejoice.

“Why do you worry?”

Everyone in the house is sleeping. But me. Audio tapes of previous conversations and questions about tomorrow play in my head. The cooing of a White-winged Dove outside my bedroom window draws me out of bed.

I venture outside to sit alone on my folk’s back patio; alone with my thoughts. But the whistle of a train passing through this small town interrupts my silence.

In a brown oak rocking chair, I watch the day unfold like a stage play. White-winged doves fly from one mesquite tree to another; resting on the branches, eating cracked corn from pet bowls sitting on the picnic table. Overhead, a  T-38 jet from the neighboring Air Force base zooms by, drowning out the chorus of Grackles and Finches.

A cornfield separates me from the rural highway where people in cars speed by. They rush to jobs, run errands, hurry to medical appointments. But time doesn’t rule me today. I can read scripture and pray before the household wakes up.

Tradition brings me to the Lone Star state each year. Four generations gathered round the dining room table on Easter weekend. Thankful for God’s provision, and His Son who died on the cross and rose again. Thankful for family despite the drama.

Now it’s a weekday morning. The others have gone, and my family is staying a few more days. But who’s counting? Unless it’s true that ‘company and fish stink after three days.’ In which case, it explains why my folks have been sniffling.

I randomly open my Bible to Matthew 6:26, 27. “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single day to your life?”

A yellow Aspen leaf is pressed between the pages. I’ve been here before; the words in verse 28 are underlined: “why do you worry.”

“Why do you worry?” Take action. Pray for that person’s employment, that person’s health, that person’s relationship with Christ, and with others.

“Why do you worry?” Spoken by Jesus knowing the excruciating death that awaited Him. Knowing all but one of His disciples would be martyred. Knowing believers would be scattered and persecuted.

God, the Alpha and Omega, knows my past regrets, present concerns, my future.  And still He says, “Why do you worry?”

I can rock frantically back and forth, getting no where. Absorb the drama, stand on my soap box, worry about tomorrow.

Or I can sit still in His presence. Rest on His Word and obey, “Do not worry… but seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness….” (verses 31-33)

The choice is mine…

Even in this.

HELP WANTED


My husband looked at me. “Do you have enough to carry?”

I stood in the kitchen laden with two plastic grocery bags weighing down my left arm. My purse strap hung like an anchor over my right shoulder. And my right hand clutched the car keys, mail, and dry cleaning.

He grabbed the hangers and mail while I plopped the bags on the counter. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Breathing hard, I rubbed the red marks on my arm where the bags had cut off circulation. “It never occurred to me.”

 Asking for help has never been my forte.  Even to my own detriment.

Twelve years ago, when we moved into our home, I refused offers of help. “No thanks, I can do this.”

And I did.

My husband was on a trip. And I had a week to unpack cartons, put my kitchen cabinets in order, and hang pictures before we traveled out of town for the kids’ spring vacation. I burned the candle at both ends, and guzzled caffeinated java to keep the candle burning. Then wondered why I ended up in the emergency room with heart palpitations.

Okay, so I learned to eat better. But give me a calendar and watch me fill in the empty squares. Ask for a volunteer, and see my hand go up.  One would think I’d never heard the word, “NO.”

YES, I’ve heard of it…..

Anyway, for the past month, I’ve been preparing for a writer’s conference. I’ve spent every free moment, writing and editing.

Then last week, I looked at my calendar and there were NO free moments. My sore wrists, stiff neck, and bloodshot eyes declared, “ENOUGH!”

Time with the Lord, and family responsibilities weren’t up for debate. I had to whittle down the volunteer duties and fun activities. I had to say NO.

I ALSO HAD TO ASK FOR HELP!

It was difficult squeezing that four-letter word out of my mouth.  It seemed weak until I saw the POWER.

Not only did people agree to help, they encouraged me with prayers and notes. The jobs got done. I watched the evening news and the world did not fall apart because I was not there.

In fact, thankfully, my small world was there for me!  

“Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Likewise, two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9–12 NLT)

Rainy days and Mondays

It’s Monday evening and my husband says, “You’re in a mood, today. You know that right?”

I nod, and take another bite of cold salad.

“Is it the rain?”

I pause to hear the drumbeat of water falling from the sky. This is not the patter of little feet dancing on my roof.

“We need the rain,” I sigh. “But I miss the sun.”

The sun: that giant, fireball that emanates warmth, and light, and draws my eyes upward to celestial heights.  I know the sun’s still there if I could just fly above the gray clouds that hang over me like a heavy tarp.

When I’m in a melancholy mood, I browse through my spiritual journals, hoping for previous insights or a spark to fan the embers. On this particular January day, several years ago, I’d written in my God Calling journal, “Today is gray and cold. I lack joy and feel indifferent towards the Lord.”

The enemy loves to use January weather to derail me.

In that same journal, I’d underlined a sentence, “You must say ‘Thank You’ on the grayest days. You must do it. All cannot be light unless you do. There is gray-day practice. It is absolutely necessary.”

There’s the formula to an improved mood. Did it work?

I turn the page where I’d written about an awesome worship time with the Lord, and the verse. “He who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

I scan scribbled words, written from a heart anchored to God in the storm, “We are on a life journey which consists of hills and valleys where our vision is limited. We can’t know what’s coming around the bend. So we take one step at a time, knowing He is with us, and “walk by faith and not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7 NAS)

I close the journal, my scrapbook of heartaches and joy-filled God moments. I’m not sure what plagued my soul back then. Perhaps it was the rain. But I know how I escaped the pit of indifference and despair.

I sought the Lord even when I wasn’t in the mood. I praised His name and said ‘Thank you’ even when I didn’t feel grateful.

“I am your God. Your Great Reward. Yours to look up and say, ‘All is well.’”

And so He is, and my soul is well, even in this…..

Rainy days and Mondays.