Week Four of A Series in May: Recognizing His Ways

This blog post is the fourth and last in a series of some God-discoveries I made during the month of May. To go back and read previous posts, click here for #1, here for #2, and here for #3 in the series. 

Day Twenty-two:

In Walmart today, I observed a Mennonite mother shopping with her two young boys. The mom used one arm to push a grocery cart while she jostled her fussing baby on her other arm, and the preschooler tagged along beside. Later, I heard the baby wailing at different times as the mom made her way throughout the store. She and I ended up beside each other at the self-checkouts then, and I promised myself that I'd give her a hand as soon as I had rung all of my items through. But before that could happen, another customer - a pleasant-faced, stocky man who looked to be in his 60's - came by and asked if he could help her. Well, she didn't know...for half a minute she hesitated, but then...the things at the bottom of my cart are kind of heavy, she conceded... And immediately the man came around to her checkout counter and began lifting the heavy things, scanning the items, entertaining the 4-yr-old, packing the bags, and arranging the entire grocery lot back into her cart. When I was fixing to leave the store, the mom was paying for her items while he waited by the loaded cart, having indicated to her beforehand that he would also push the full cart out to the parking lot and unload the bags into her vehicle. 

Today, when I watched a stranger help the mom who had her arms full (literally!), I caught a glimpse of God. 

He notices a need, and makes full provision for it. 

Day Twenty-three:

Tonight Ken and I got to spend some time with two other couples who have been our friends for years. At these gatherings, each of us ladies supplies a main dish, a salad, or a dessert for our shared meal, and then we rave about each other's food, ask about the recipes, and go back for seconds. The six of us gab almost non-stop. We hardly have enough time to catch up on news of our families and our communities. And there are always reminisces to dig up from past gatherings, to exclaim or to re-laugh over. Times with old friends are a treasured gift, I thought, as we pulled ourselves away from the cozy circle around the campfire to head home. 

Today, when relaxing the company of comfortable people, I caught a glimpse of God.

He allows us to grow old with friends.

Day Twenty-four:

I love when Kerra shares with Ken and me some little tidbit of her school life. It sparks delight into my day to hear of the humor that Grade Two students can generate. Such as the time one of them asked their teacher when they're going to do "the cattail tests". (I can easily see how that happened...those imposing Canadian Achievement Tests have CAT right in their name!). And when you can't think of the word "airport" while telling the story of a friend's flight delay, you can always substitute with "plane station". (I mean - train station, plane station - why not?😊) 

Today, when hearing the humorous sayings of children, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He gives us a different perspective on things in life, through little people.

Day Twenty-five:

I joined Ken on his walk this afternoon. We went on the paved RIM Park trail which meanders through swamp land and wooded area bordering the Grand River. Part way into our walk, I suggested that we could go our separate ways for a while, to benefit us both. He could go to the end of the trail at the speed he normally uses for his daily walks and I wouldn't slow him down. I could turn around and go back along the trail at a speed more conducive to photo-taking and he could catch up to me on his return trip, making it possible for us to finish the walk together. At one point after I was on the trail alone, the sun broke out of a sky that had been heavy with rain clouds all day. The section of the path ahead of me was bathed in light and I walked into it, feeling so noticed and cared for. 

Today, when I entered the sunlit stretch of trail, I caught a glimpse of God.

He lights and warms my way with His love.

Day Twenty-six:

Some of the peace-themed songs we sang during worship time at church tend to stir up poignant memories for me. "Peace, Perfect Peace" takes me right back to the graveside service in which we buried our too-tiny baby Randy. "Perfect peace, really? Even with death shadowing us and ours? Yes, Jesus has vanquished death and all its powers!" Singing "Like a River, Glorious" makes me think of hearing it for the first time during prayer meeting at Northwoods the week Ken and I got married. I was quite stressed out at times those days, and the song brought such good, calming reminders. "Stayed upon Jehovah, not a surge of worry, shade of care or blast of hurry can touch my spirit." The looking back during worship time this morning somehow helped to bring assurance of peace in Jesus as I look ahead. 

This morning, when I sang with my Oasis Church family, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He is my Prince of Peace.

Day Twenty-seven: 

I had a lovely evening with my mom-in-law and sisters-in-law celebrating the two ladies among us who have birthdays this month. We went to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and enjoyed tasty entrees and dessert and pleasant conversation while seated in comfortable, padded wooden chairs around a large table. Near the end of meal, one of the ladies got up to leave the table for a washroom break. She gasped in astonishment and held up a round metal waiter's tray to show the rest of us. "I was sitting on this the whole time!" she chortled. What?? How could she have not known it? Not felt the 3/4-inch-high lip on the tray? The whole time!! She was such a good sport, but this was just too funny. We all sat there and howled with incredulous laughter. 

Tonight, when my in-laws and I "lost it" laughing, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He uses humor to refresh us. 

Day Twenty-eight:

During my quiet time this morning, I pondered the lyrics to the song "Near to the Heart of God", not knowing that I would see its theme illustrated later on in the day. I got a call from our son (the triplet-dad) asking if he could bring Piper over to stay with me while he takes Jude in to the ER to get checked out for respiratory problems. Jude's symptoms were similar to the ones for which his brother Quinn was admitted to the hospital yesterday. I said of course Piper could come. She has a cold too, but it hasn't gotten as bad as her siblings' illness, thankfully. She played quite contentedly, but at nap time she got restless and wasn't able to settle. I couldn't blame her for crying, knowing she was in a rather strange place and placed in a pack-n-play instead of her own bed to try to fall asleep in. And her mom and dad were gone, caring for her brothers who were both hospitalized with a nasty respiratory virus. When I picked her up, I was surprised that she clung to me, because she's been known to act more delighted when I leave than when I come to their house! (since I'm not her mom) I guess because I was the only adult available today, Piper nestled in my arms, laid her head on my chest, and fell asleep. I think God wanted to show me what it could look like to take my cares and worries of the day to Him, nestle down near to His heart, and rest.

Today, when I cuddled Piper on the couch (and eventually we both fell asleep), I caught a glimpse of God.

He offers a place of quiet rest near to His heart.

Day Twenty-nine:

I had a different outlook on life today than I had yesterday. My sick grandsons made great strides toward better health. Jude got to go home from the hospital already, and Quinn was so much better that Joy thinks he will surely get discharged tomorrow morning. The triplets' other grandma was on babysitting duty, so I was free to go and do the big shopping trip necessary for heading up the Martin Family Camping event this coming weekend. I even had time to visit my elderly friend in the hospital tonight, and while I was there, I popped in for a quick chat with Joy and Quinn in the pediatric unit. It was delightful to see that the Quinn-grin is back in working order. Thank you, Jesus! Then I came home so upbeat in spirit that I went and ate too many snacks and scrolled too much Facebook. The result was regret and guilt. Why can't I allow both sorrow and joy to draw me to the heart of God?

Tonight, when I thought about the contrast in my moods between yesterday and today, I caught a glimpse of God.

He reminds me that only He can truly satisfy. 

Day Thirty:

I finished the book that Sarah J. Martin wrote about lessons she's learning from seven teachers - her children. She ends the book with a very fitting story of her young daughter wanting to be carried "until they were home" even though the distance was only to the house from the trampoline in the back yard, and she was getting almost too big to be carried. Reading about it reminded me of how touching I found the song "Jesus Led Me All the Way", when our friend Bear sang it in his deep, expressive voice. I know that when I get to heaven and meet Jesus face to face, I will testify that I'm here only because He led me all the way. And I shall thank Him especially for the times He picked me up when I, like Sarah's daughter in her book, wanted Him to be the One to carry me until we're Home. 

Today, when I read about Jayna wanting her mom to carry her all the way home, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He'll be with me all the way.

Day Thirty-one:

Since Carlin and Kayleen and the twins arrived here last night, my daughter was present on The Day Of in the lineup of preparing-and-packing days for Martin Family Camping. Kayleen offered to help me in the kitchen during the twins' nap times. She helped me "pull" the pork for the Sunday lunch our family was designated to supply, taste-tested the homemade BBQ sauce and assisted me in deciding how wet to make the pork with said sauce. She diced the red bell peppers for the pineapple salsa. She shredded the cabbage and carrots for the coleslaw - enough to stuff a fix-n-mix bowl tight full - and confirmed that the amount would suffice as a side dish for feeding 70+ people. Then she did up the dishes and wiped the counters. Every time, I am amazed anew at just how much can be accomplished by partnership with my girls in the kitchen.

Today, while working with Kayleen on Camping preparations, I caught a glimpse of God.

He astonishes me with His help.

Reflections, in closing: I started out this series with a desire to know God in deeper, richer ways. Now, at the end of this discovery month, I can't say that I know God fully. (Can we ever say that?) But He has opened my eyes and heart to Him, and I am so grateful for all the daily glimpses. I want to keep getting a fuller picture of who He is, in the months and years to come. 

How has God been showing Himself to you lately?

Week Three of A Series in May: Recognizing His Ways

In the month of May I've been posting every week, to document daily glimpses of God I get in my everyday life. If you've missed previous posts in the series, you can read my impressions from Week #1 here, and the ones from Week #2 here.

Day Fifteen:

Eleanor and Eva, my twin granddaughters, did so well for me when their parents were gone, including sleeping all through the night - basically from 7pm to 7am. Kayleen came back home while the girls were having their morning nap, so she and I were able to each get a twin out of a crib when the babies woke up. When the twin I was holding noticed that her sister was in the arms of MOM, I was no longer good enough. In fact, I was so not good enough that it was worth wailing about!

A little later, when DAD came home, there was more celebration from the twins, which turned to mourning when I took one of the girls to get her settled into the stroller before going on a walk. Again, a great wailing ensued. It seemed to me, as I observed the twins in those two different instances of reuniting with their parents, that the girls didn't know how much they missed both mommy and daddy until they were with them again. They were quite happy with their grandma when she was the only one there, but she soon became an inferior option when the real deal caregivers showed up. Which is exactly as it should be. No one has loved so deeply nor bonded so tightly to those girls as their parents have.

Today, when I observed the twins with their parents after being separated for one night, I caught a glimpse of God.

His love surpasses all other's.

Day Sixteen:

I drove home from Carlin & Kayleen's place today. When I approached Buffalo, New York, and thought about the US-Canada border coming up, I felt a surge of gratitude once again. These days, it's just so much simpler to cross the border than it was a few years ago. No more lining up a Starts-With-a-C test at the nearest pharmacy within a certain number of hours before arriving at the border. No more waiting for the results to come back saying you're negative. No more filling out the form on your phone's ArriveCan app. No more wondering what questions will be thrown at you at the border booth this time. No more staying six feet away from that border guard, or from anyone else, for that matter. No more quarantining for two weeks when you do finally arrive safely and healthily back home. 

I'm so happy to have all of that shmozzle behind us. When we were right in the thick of the pandemic, it was hard to believe that, like my aunt says, it would eventually be an experience that "had come to pass". You know, in the Bible where it has all those verses beginning with "And it came to pass...", well, she liked to think of it as meaning that things come and then they go away. Some unfavorable circumstance may arrive in your life, but it helps you to bear it with remembering that at some point, it too, will pass. 

Today, when I pulled up to the booth to cross back into Canada, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He brings things to pass. 

Day Seventeen: 

I went to the hospital today to visit a friend. Twice. The first time, I went without thinking of checking what time visiting hours were before I left. It was disappointing to discover I had arrived there an hour and a half too early. There was not much I could do about it, besides going back home and coming again later. 

In the elevator on my way back out I met a friendly man who appeared to be a hospital worker. My face must have shown that I was lamenting my fruitless trip and scolding myself meanwhile for not being more proactive, because the man asked me if I'm ready call it a day (it was only 2 o-clock in the afternoon!) I explained my situation and he wished me better luck next time. It was only a short exchange, and not at all profound, but somehow I felt my day got a little brighter with the encounter.

Once outside, I saw the phrase on the hospital's colorful sign - Care Never Stops - and I thought of all the care required in a place like that. My disappointment paled in light of what others around me were facing that day. On all the different floors of the hospital, and spilling out on to the sidewalks and surrounding streets are those with brokenness of body, mind, and spirit. It's good to know that the hospital workers are committed to ongoing care for these people, but how much more could our loving, faithful Father rightfully say His care never stops.

Today, when I walked out of the hospital and saw its slogan in big block letters, I caught a glimpse of God. 

His care for me never ends. 

Day Eighteen: 

I had such a delightful time gardening with Kerra today. First we went to a greenhouse to buy vegetable plants and flowers. Then we came home and directly worked up the soil in my new garden boxes in preparation for planting our purchases. While we dug, planted, and watered, we discussed the upcoming Sunday School lesson where Peter gets pretty passionate about false teachers. Kerra asked me for some planting tips and I said what I know from previous gardening experience. We laughed over an inside quote, "Shall we plant dear little lettuces?" instead of "Shall we make dear little muffins?" like Beatrix Potter's Mittens says to Moppet. We both enjoyed surveying our work with satisfaction and down-to-earth joy.

Today, when Kerra and I gardened, I caught a glimpse of God. 

He loves working with His daughters.

Day Nineteen:

We went to church early tonight. Ken had to unlock the building so that the visiting speaker could set up his Power Point gear and display table in plenty of time before the evening service began. I had a few minutes to sit in the sanctuary alone while Ken was off rounding up some equipment and before anyone else arrived. Something about the silence in that space as the evening light streamed through the stained glass windows and enriched the wood of the pews had a calming affect on my heart and invited God near. 

Tonight, when I sat on a bench in the auditorium at St. James, I caught a glimpse of God. 

His presence invokes reverence.

Day Twenty: 

Our church had its annual Victoria Day social today. This event included a baseball game, a potluck picnic, and a farewell for our Ukranian friends who are moving to Michigan by the end of the week. At the end of the ballgame and the beginning of the picnic, a rainstorm blew in. So much for my rushing to water my flowers and the new garden plants before leaving for the social, I thought. God's watering system far surpasses my use of well and watering can. During the farewell sharing time after the picnic supper, our pastor prayed that our friends would be blessed with a permanent home they can settle into. We also sang songs of heaven, the better Home that all of us can look forward to. Later on that evening, after we were home from the social, I noted another of God's superior ways. The moon He lighted in the night sky was far more enduring and impressive than my new 1-watt decorative string lights (although they are powered by His greater light to rule the day) and the fireworks that people set off to celebrate Victoria Day.

On Victoria Day, I caught a glimpse of God. 

His ways outshine man's ways every time.

Day Twenty-one:

I got to spend time with a writer friend this afternoon. Over cups of tea at Anna Mae's restaurant, we talked for two hours, catching up on the news of our families' lives and talking writer-y shop, of course. When I told my friend about my goal of finishing a huge writing project this year (by learning to say no so I can say yes), she got so excited! Her enthusiasm was catching, and I came away refreshed and renewed in my belief that I can accomplish what I have set out to do.

Today, when I sat and shared with a friend, I caught a glimpse of God.

He gives us purpose. (and friends to spur us on)

Week One of A Series in May: Recognizing His Ways

Have you ever wondered about God? Is He real? If so, what is He like? Who is He, truly? If you're like me, you have had seasons in your life wherein you ponder the questions more often or more deeply than usual. 

I am approaching the month of May in such a season. Lately, I've been asking God for answers to the question, "Who are You?" and following it with a statement of longing, "Because I want to worship You, not My Idea of You." 

I know He is okay with my asking. Otherwise He wouldn't have inspired a psalmist to write things like "I pour out my soul in me..." and "...Oh people, pour out your hearts before Him." I've decided to accept this invitation by blogging some of my soul's "outpouring" during the month of May. Following are daily impressions from the first week, accompanied by photos of things in spring that have The Creator's signature on them. 

Day One: 

When I said hello to the white-haired woman sitting in a wheelchair at Lorene Weber's funeral, she spoke my name. A lady from Lorene's community who has had connection with the Webers' church family over the years, she remembered me from the few times we've met and have had brief conversations at Glad Tidings Church over the years. I hadn't seen her for ages, which is why I was astounded at her memory of my name as well as her knowledge of my twin and triplet grandchildren. She knew that our daughter with twin girls had very similar experiences as Lorene's granddaughter Amberly had with her twin girls. She also knew that one of our granddaughters is named Piper (the girl triplet), because she recalled hearing it matches the name of Amberly's one twin. I was amazed that, out of all the people whom she's likely encountered over the past couple decades, she would mark me as someone to remember and make associations with, even though our interactions have been so few and brief.

Today, I caught a glimpse of God when Mrs. White said, "Hello, Danette". 

He knows my name.

Day Two:

This morning, I got the idea to blog about seeking God in the month of May. I started crying when typed the above question and statement, "Who are You?" and "I want to worship You, not My Idea of You.", because in that exact moment I knew God heard me.

"You've come to the right place, Daughter," He seemed to say. "It brings Me great delight to show you who I am. Start looking for the ways."

Today, I caught a glimpse of God when I started this blog post. 

He hears the heart of His children.

Day Three:

Twenty-nine years ago today, we said goodbye to Mom-Eva. Her cancer got to be too much for her earthly body, and Jesus called her Home. It was a relief to know that her suffering was over, and a joy to think of her living in the presence of her Lord, but it was also a grief to part with someone so greatly loved. I don't miss her as often or as poignantly as I used to, but the pain of loss can still sneak up on me and surprise me with its depth. 

Today, I caught a glimpse of God when Ken gave me an extra long and tight hug since I might still be missing Mom-Eva after all these years.

His comfort is enduring. 

Day Four:

These days, I'm using the Audible app on my phone to listen to a gripping and sometimes heart-wrenching story that alternates between the lives of a grandmother and her granddaughter. When it's the grandma's turn, she recalls her experiences as a Polish girl in her late teens during World War II. She's the youngest in her family, and her parents do their best to shield her from the atrocities that occur during the German occupation in their community. As they emphasize the certainty that she can trust in them to look out for her, they say things like "When you need to worry, Father and I will tell you to worry", and "When you need to be concerned, I will tell you." 

 

I wonder if my Father would like to point that out to me sometimes, too, when I'm uptight about things that are out of my control, or even when things are in my control but I don't like the outcome because of the way I've handled them. When the fear of failure or the fear of the unknown is weighing me down, I wonder if "Fear not" and "Be anxious for nothing" is His way of saying, "Trust me, I will tell you when you need to begin worrying." 

Today, I caught a glimpse of God when I listened to my audio book.

He is completely trustworthy. 

Day Five:

Two local choirs collaborated to bring a delightful program to our community this weekend: Heart Cry Ensemble (of which our daughter is a member) and Menno Singers (a group that Ken & I had the privilege to join - along with many others - in singing Messiah last December). Their music stirred me, uplifted me, grounded me, shored me up, and solidified my belief that "My God is a Rock". He is ever near, He is there when I can't see or feel or hear Him, He is still with me after I wake - either here or in heaven - and He is the Place to anchor my soul.

Today, I caught a glimpse of God through the choirs' messages in song.

He reveals Himself through music.

Day Six: 

My heart constricted when I found the tiny, naked robin nestling. It lay on the ground in my flowerbed amid a wreckage of broken birdie bodies and bits of blue eggshell, not far from its cozy home still perched on the underbeams of our deck. Mama robin feathers littered the area, testament to fierce struggle against a predator (unknown to me, but immediately within the range of my known anger!) How I wanted to save that little bird when I saw its featherless chest still heaving slightly, bravely. I went into the house and got a serving spoon from the kitchen drawer with which to scoop up the baby and gently place it back into the nest, hoping against hope that the remaining parent bird would find it and care for it in a life-restoring way. (It didn't)

Today, I caught a glimpse of God when I wanted to save a helpless creature. (I couldn't)

He wants to rescue. (He can and He does)

Day Seven: 

This afternoon, I walked with my elderly friend "Debbie" on our favorite trail. Typically, we see some wildlife as we stroll the tree-lined path between a river and narrow, man-made canal, but this time we saw an abundance of flowers, birds and woodland creatures. I guess because it's springtime, they were going about their business in greater number and intensity:

gray squirrels and their red and black cousins scampering, scavenging

cardinals trilling their pretty, pretty, pretty bird! call

snapping turtles sunning in the mud, then lunging into the water

chickadees flighty and hopeful, asking for a sunflower seed handout

violets, purple or yellow, their dainty stems waving banners of good cheer

mallard drakes paddling regally upstream

red-headed woodpecker hammering at dead wood, stocking or depleting its insect larder

trilliums dressed in classy white, living up to their status as Ontario's official floral emblem 

chipmunks skittering and scolding, or striking the dearest pose while reaching for a bramble bloom

blue jays, beautiful and bossy, jaying without ceasing (it seemed like)

frogs, bug-eyed and throat-bulged at water's edge, stolidly regarding passersby 

Today, I caught a glimpse of God along the Mill Race Trail. 

His springtime Creation teems with life.

What ways of God have you recognized lately?

Important Three-letter Hinge

 

"Don't be afraid," the angel could have said to us in a Wisconsin snowstorm, "FOR unto you is sent this morn a snow plow driver." 

On a recent Sunday morning during Sunday School, I learned about the important little word "for" that appears in fearful situations frequenting the Christmas Story. Our lesson was taken from Isaiah 43, where there are phrases such as "Fear not, for I have redeemed thee" and "Fear not, for I am with thee". One of the ladies in the class pointed out the similarities of these God-declarations in Isaiah to the messages that angels delivered to fearful Nativity characters. 

God didn't scold these anxious humans, He acknowledged their fear and gave them a reason to trust Him in the midst of that fear. The word "for" is the hinge connecting His directive for them not to be afraid with the reason they didn't need to be: Don't fear, Mary, FOR you have found favor with God. Joseph, don't be afraid to take Mary as your wife, FOR her coming baby is conceived of the Holy Ghost. Fear not, Shepherds, FOR unto you is born this day a Savior who is Christ the Lord. 

"Don't be afraid in fearful circumstances, Dear Child of God, FOR your Heavenly Father is provisionary and trustworthy" seemed to be a takeaway from the lesson. What a great truth, I thought, as I left Sunday School. I will need to remember that for my own anxious moments. I had no idea how soon I would be able to put it into practice.

Later on that same Sunday, Ken & I and Kerra headed out on the drive to Hayward, Wisconsin for our "Christmas" with the Schrocks. We began our trip several hours earlier than we had initially planned because of a significant snowfall forecast for northern Michigan and Wisconsin, areas we traverse on our typical route to Hayward.

We made excellent time as we drove through the night on bare roads with minimal traffic. Near the town of Iron Mountain in Michigan, though, we hit snow. The first snowflakes in the air soon turned into a full-blown snowstorm of the thick, swirling, mesmerizing, hypnotizing brand.

Ken drove well, but slowly. The more we crept along the trackless, desolate stretch of road, the more tense I became. Ken asked me to help him keep an eye out for the edge of the road and an ear out for the rumble strip embedded in the center line of the road, so I hunched forward and peered out the windshield into the storm.

The 3.5 hours it usually takes to get from Iron Mountain to Mom & Dad's place in Hayward stretched into almost twice that long because of the driving difficulty. We navigated areas of poor visibility, and a few times we pulled off the road for a breather and to see if the storm would let up any for us to go on. (These ten-or-fifteen-minute breaks did seem to make things easier.) In some places, we pushed ahead through deep unplowed sections, and then slowed way down when the snow we were "plowing" with the van whooshed up over the windshield, creating sudden whiteouts. 

At one point, when we were an hour or so from Hayward (under normal driving conditions, that is), Ken pulled off the highway onto a side road to de-ice the windshield wipers. The van was just nicely off the main road, headed down a slight dip on that side road, when another vehicle came toward us and we had to get off to the side of the narrow road to let that driver by. 

When we came to a full stop, we were quite close to the snowbank at the edge of the road and when Ken tried to back the van up onto the side road proper again, the right front wheel slid farther into the bank and we were stuck. 

The knowledge that we were very stuck gradually sunk in after a lot of tire-spinning and passenger-pushing and hands-shoveling of snow away from the van wheels and a futile putting of van floor mats behind said wheels. "We'll need someone to pull us out of here," said Driver Ken, who is also known as Mr. Optimistic.  

Oh, dear! If Mr. Optimistic says we can't get unstuck by ourselves, it's bad. My fear kicked into high gear even though my senses were somewhat sluggish from having travelled all night with little sleep. How will we get out? It's still dark out! The snow is so deep! We're too far from Hayward to call my brothers and bother them to come get us unstuck. We're in a very unpopulated area of northern Wisconsin. If and when a vehicle does come by on the main road, we're too far in this side road to be seen by its driver... 

And then, after Kerra and I had climbed back into the warm van and Ken had walked off into the cold without telling us where he was going, (we ladies didn't know yet that his destination was up beside the main highway to flag down some help) I noticed the gas gauge light had come on. The next thing I knew, the distance to empty reading on the van dashboard was 0 km. Oh, great! I thought. Now we're going to sit here until we run out of gas yet. As if we don't have enough running-out-of-gas stories in our repertoire! Fine, I'll shut the motor off and just hope we don't freeze before somebody stops to help. 

I think it was at that point, when cynicism was about to join hands with my despair, I thought about praying. I don't think I actually remembered in detail my earlier commitment to fear not, FOR my God is trustworthy, but I did remember that I can cry to Him for help. So I did. Later, I learned it was right then that Ken specifically prayed God would send a vehicle along on the main road - someone with a rope or chain - to pull us out. This was after he had waited on the shoulder of the main highway for a very long time without seeing a single car or truck on the road. 

Very shortly after we both prayed our separate but joined prayers, a tow truck approached, slowed down somewhat, and drove on by. Soon after that, we heard...what is that, a flutter of angel wings? No, wait, that's a rumble of snow plow blades! 

Ken talked to the snow plow driver, who said that yes, he has a chain along, and no, he's not allowed to stop his highway work to pull somebody out of the ditch, and yes, he would want someone to stop and help if he was the one stuck in the snow at the side of the road, so no, he was not going to obey the letter of the law (my words), and yes, he would hook up his chain to our van and "walk" us right outta there. (pretty much his words)

It was an easy piece of work for his plow to pull our van out of the snowy ditch to the middle of the side road, facing away from the main highway. The driver accepted our immense gratitude for his help, but he wouldn't take any of the money Ken offered him for his trouble. After he left to continue plowing the snowy highway, we still had to back out of the side road before we could get out onto the main road and continue on our way to Hayward. 

Ken tried backing the van up the slight rise toward the highway, but he couldn't gain enough speed and  momentum to do it. The tires started spinning again. Since there was no room to turn around on that narrow road, eventually Ken drove ahead farther into the side road's snowy depths. He figured that way he could get more of a run at it when he put it in reverse again, but that move put my worrying into gear again. I was almost sure we would shimmy right back into the ditch, and then what? Wouldn't that be tempting God or something, to require a second rescue? 

But Ken steadily backed the van through the deep snow and out onto the main highway, where we were soon once again pointed toward Mom & Dad's place. Thankfully, both lanes of the highway were plowed by that time. The snow had stopped falling, and daylight had come. 

We made it to a gas station just outside Hayward to refuel before our vehicle ran out of gas completely (the angle the van was in from leaning into the snowbank had distorted the gas gauge reading). And, after some second tries and maneuverations through the ten inches of snow on Mom & Dad's unplowed road, we "skittered into their driveway" at last. 

What a happy reunion with my parents! And what a happy time we had with the Wisconsin Schrocks in the coming days, celebrating Christmas and delighting in the privilege of being together in person. It definitely was worth it, to go through our travel difficulties to get to the good family times in the end.

I feel a bit more connection to the once-fearful people in the Christmas story, now that I've encountered my own "fear not, FOR..." experience. The details of my story have implications of far less significance than theirs have, but the God to whom they surrendered their fears is the same One who assures me of His trustworthiness in any current situation. "FOR unto you this morn I send you a snow plow driver..."

Slowing Down to the Speed of Awe

We have now entered the last month in 2021, which means that I am on the last soul-training exercise that author James Bryan Smith suggests in his book, "The Good and Beautiful God". To me, the discipline of Slowing Down seems so appropriate for the holiday month of December. I believe it will take courage and intention to combat the hype and the hustle that often comes with the Christmas package. 

Smith says that "when hurried, we cannot experience life at its fullest..." On the other hand, "when we slow down, we allow ourselves to be found, found by life and found by God." That, to me, sounds so desirable for this season. In the author's words, I wish to "take delight in my life and make room for God" these days of December. 

One suggestion in Smith's list of ways to practice slowing down is to choose an hour on a particular day to be a sloth (as in moving about very slowly, not in being sluggish and lazy). He suggests that to do this sloth hour is to stop often, to notice things, to be present in the present moment.

I've decided on taking his suggestion and tweaking it a bit - or a lot - to create a slow down routine for me in the month of December. I want to set aside at least a few minutes each day to slow down purposefully, to notice delightful things in my view, and to make room in my life to be found by God. Instead of moving at the speed of sloth, though, I'll move at the speed of awe, as another author words it. (I can't think just now who said that)

I wish to document my impressions of this soul-training exercise. I would like to commit to blogging about it daily, but I'm not making any promises in that regard. (I don't want the exercise itself to become burdensome or pressuring because that would feel in many ways like I'm edging back into the hurry-flurry I wish to avoid!) 

Today my soul-training session included going on a walk in the orchard. Here are some things I noticed in my sloth-and-awe time:

 A bright spot of color popping out of the slop heap

Plant life nestled in unique snow-crystaled frames

A stick man striding across a thin layer of pond ice?

They say to bloom where you're planted; what about blooming where you're wintered?

Where would you venture for a walk at the speed of awe?

Dear Little Bumblebee

Sweetest (and only, so far) grandchild of mine, you came to my house one day this week and I was smitten. I couldn't help myself. In the first place, the shirt you wore made you the dearest little bumblebee ever!

And then you proceeded to charm me with your expressions while you played with the toys. What all were you imagining?

Your mom and dad were right when they said that your favorite toys are real tools. Hopefully your interest in them will last well beyond the day you actually need to use them to do real chores.  

Then we went outside to the orchard, where you seemed a natural at handling the apples. You didn't actually pick them, but I could tell you'd know how. You surprised me by saying "ap-ple", plain as day, when you spotted one. I didn't know you use another word besides "up". It was a delightful moment.

Then we went to the swing set. You sat there. The pudge of your nose, your little hands gripping the slide, your elephant crocs, though...How do you cram so much darlingness into one pose?

Later, we got out the baseball set. You weren't sad, really, were you? Just contemplating life, I reckon. Or maybe just pondering when and where and how to throw a ball.

You know what the best thing was, though? How you gave me a picture of God's love for me. When I came to pick you up to bring you to my house, you came toddling out your apartment door toward my van, and I knew the exact moment you saw me. Your eyes lit up in recognition and you got the biggest grin on your face and you came running toward me, arms outstretched. My heart just leapt in return. I wanted nothing more than to run toward you and scoop you up and let you know my grandma love for you.

So now, since you gave me that picture, I know what I am going to do. These days, when I get all confused and distressed about stuff like viruses, hurricanes, earthquakes, and fires, be they literal or figurative, I'm going to look up. One glimpse there - maybe a verse or song or word from a friend or visit from a grandson - and my face will light up in recognition. That's from God. I know Him! I'm running toward Him, arms outstretched...