These afternoon storms sure pack a punch—and so does the Lord

I was so mesmerized by the black swirling rain that obliterated my view of the pool fifteen feet away, that I didn’t even think “tornado’ until it had moved its trail of havoc down the street.  Not that I know what I would have done if it were, but I probably wouldn’t keep standing in front of the patio doors.

After the tempest passed, I surveyed the damage. Apart from some of those nasty sweet gum trees losing their heads, all was well. One lawn chair floated upside down in the pool and yet the other was undisturbed. Same chairs, same place. One gone, the other left.  It reminded me of Luke’s warning—“ two will be in a bed, one will be taken the other not; two women will be grinding, one will be taken the other left”  (Luke 17:34-35).

This was just a sudden violent storm, not a tornado, earthquake, or tsunami, still it pressed its point—all man’s might comes to naught in a few furious seconds.

The fallen tree had wiped out the fence, leaving a gap which I was sure the pooch would be happy to notice. We have a cute little electric chain saw that works great when there is electricity, but is as useful as a flashlight full of dead batteries when there’s not.  My husband left for work, saying he would come back to cut the tree out of the fence as soon as the electric came on.

I thought I’d lighten his load and surprise him by chopping all the bushy branches from the main trunk. Hoping a sweaty, filthy woman who was attacking a fallen sweet gum tree with a pair of lopping shears wasn’t worthy of the evening news, I kept my face turned away from the helicopter that hovered overhead.

As I worked, I prayed for a friend who had called. Although she lives elsewhere and wasn’t affected by my weather, she was experiencing her own emotional storm. I wanted to intercede for her and hoped the Lord would accept my prayers even as I lopped branches, but I worried whether I should be on my knees in undistracted petition.

At some point in my sweaty labor, I wondered if any of the spectators out ogling the aftermath would stop and offer to help. For some reason, I was certain if someone did, I would know the Lord heard my prayers of intercession for my friend.

A mother and daughter stopped to chat and then passed by. Two boys taking advantage of the tree- blocked street zipped by on skateboards. A tired man stopped to say he’d lost his barn. Electric trucks, road crews…slowed to look and continued on.

I chopped and prayed. Two hours passed.

A teenage boy walked by, stopped, exchanged news of ruined roofs and missing trampolines. And then, there it was. God’s sweet assurance in the storms. The boy surveyed my mess.

  

“Do you need some help?”

A random thought came, as God thoughts do

The other day I got myself in such a dither, I had to take a time out.

It was my last chance to make a revision in my manuscript before its final edit. For days I had been agonizing over a change that involved some people I had written about. I scrutinized my motives, examined my heart, and submitted myself to Holy Spirit conviction. Still, I couldn’t come to a decision, mainly because I didn’t want to hurt the primary person involved.

My stomach was in such a knot I plunked myself down in a chaise lounge, set my face toward the sun, and said, “Lord, I give up. You know the situation. I can’t come to a decision, so I’m going to sit here and clear my mind, and expect to know what to do when I get up.”

A random thought came, as God thoughts do. I started thinking about the title of my friend, Lori Roeleveld’s book, Far From the Tree. I had read the first few chapters but didn’t know who the villain was. I toyed with whether he (?) was close to another character, as in “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” or whether he was far removed as in, “the apple fell far from the tree, this time.”

In the midst of my musing, the phone rang. Lo and behold, it was the person in my book I was most concerned about. After chatting a few minutes, I plunged in and asked what they (I know it’s supposed to he or she, but choose to ignore correctness for obscurity) thought about my concern. Their immediate response surprised me.

“I think that’s good. In fact, it’s better.”

Just like that. No issue. No reason for days of angst, anxiety, and anxious thoughts. Then, as though that weren’t reason enough to know God heard my prayer, in the midst of the conversation, my friend said, “Yeah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Well, I still don’t know who the villain is in Lori’s book, but I do know this: The Lord delights in answering prayer, and sometimes, He just can’t resist topping it with His signature flourish, no matter how random it seems.

Oh why, do I spend days fretting and fuming?

“Return to your rest, O my soul, For the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.”—Psalm 116:7