A few summers ago, my eldest son talked me into going on one of those crazy amusement park rides. As long as I kept my eyes closed, I felt safe in the secure hold of the seat. We spun in crazy circles and flipped upside down. It was exhilarating. And terrifying.
I had to peek. As soon as my eyes got involved, the self-preservation instinct kicked in. I froze.
The Bible says, “Walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7 KJV). When life’s trajectory is erratic and feels like it’s out of control, we can’t ask to stop the ride. Sometimes our circumstances carry us willy-nilly. We can’t steer – it’s enough to just hold on.
Will the bystanders pity our pinched, green-tinted faces, or will they be amazed that we are secure enough to find joy in the midst of the confusion?
The Apostle Paul wrote about rejoicing in all things (Philippians 4:4), not because our lives are free from pain, but rather because the hand of God holds us and carries us through.
When we stop looking for our own solutions to life, and pause to sense God’s firm hold, we show a powerful testimony of our Sovereign Lord’s ability to love and care for those in turbulence.
We may not like the ride, but let’s hang on and trust the One who is holding onto us. God hasn’t dropped anyone yet.
© Janet Sketchley, 2008
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For devotionals, reviews and conversation, stop by Janet Sketchley's blog, God with Us: Finding Joy.
Drop by the free books page on my blog and leave a comment before midnight, August 21, for a chance to win a copy of Reverend Mother's Daughter, by Mary Haskett.
InScribe Writers Online Blog - Where members share their writings with each other and the world
August 08, 2008
August 05, 2008
Where's Your Place?
Since I am a new creation in Christ, when he restores my soul, he puts it back into its lovely new state - the one he created within me. But I must place myself in his care in order for him to restore me. I can do that anywhere, at any time, in the car, at home, in the office or wherever I am.
But I find much restoration in creation, away from buildings and man-made things. Walking through the woods, tramping along a sandy beach, or standing on a hill with the wind in my face is restorative. I can't help but focus my thoughts on the great Creator of beauty. I am amazed at intricate seashells, the movement of tides and currents and the infinite range of colour in nature.
An hour, an afternoon, a weekend or a few days soaking up the order of creation and I return home renewed, rebuilt and restored.
Where's your place?
August 04, 2008
Dare the Devil
Alan Taylor’s black ‘76 Chevy smashed into the bridge guardrail Friday night at precisely 11:42 p.m. A split second later, it catapulted into the power lines, flipped over on its back and dropped like a dead raven on the Amtrak rails below.
At 11:57 p.m., Alan slumped upside down inside his car. At least the seat belt works. He moaned, lifting his left arm. He tried to move his legs. What am I doing here? He wiggled to free himself. Twisted metal came between him and the buckle. He felt blood flowing into his head. He laughed. Good thing I’m drunk. Yeah, good thing I‘ve been hanging upside down every night at the gym. The alcohol continued to do its job. Look at me — not a tense muscle in my body. I’m in great shape for the shape I’m in. I can sleep anywhere. Craziest trip I’ve taken. Might as well relax; the police will be along soon.
The state highway patrol officer was certain no one was alive in the car. He glanced at his watch. It must have happened after 11:40 or the eastbound Broadway Limited would have further remodeled the Chevy — along with everything inside it. He wondered what getting hit by a train would feel like. I bet it wouldn’t have made any difference to whoever was in this car. Dead is dead.
Alan’s mother worked all day in the retail outlet her husband owned before he died. Before retiring, she soaked her feet and took two pain killers. I don’t want to wake up during the night. I am so tired. I really need to sleep. She shut her eyes at 10:14. It seemed only moments when she opened them again at 11:05. She glanced at the clock. I don’t want to be awake. This is absolutely crazy.
For a few minutes, she stared at the little sparkles in the ceiling and tried to find Orion or Ursas Minor. Then she rolled several times, first to the right but her shoulder ached; then to the left but her right arm went numb. Why, God? Why can’t I sleep tonight? It has been a long day — and a long week. This isn’t fair.
She stumbled to the kitchen and put a mug of milk in the microwave. When it was warm, she walked sipping into the living room. Outside, the well-lit street was quiet. She was glad they were finally able to move away from the tracks. That Broadway Limited used to wake her up every night at 11:40. When Dave died, she used the insurance money to upgrade. This was a good move. This milk is good too. She felt sleepy again and returned to the bedroom. Just as she turned back the covers to crawl in, she heard a train whistle — it was the Broadway Limited. How can that be? We live twenty miles from the track?
Something is wrong. She slid out of bed and dropped to her knees. Lord, watch over that train tonight. You alone control what is happening. You are able to protect it and anyone concerning it. She prayed for its passengers, then for people who might be on the crossings. Alan. He’s okay. He’s at work, at Leek’s Cafe. He called and said he would be working until midnight. She prayed: Lord, keep Alan out of the path of that train. Keep him safe tonight. Help him to understand that You love him. May Your goodness lead him to repentance. She crawled under the sheets, closed her eyes and was instantly asleep. It was 11:41.
Alan looked again at his watch. It was 12:06. He was no longer laughing. My mother will never trust me again. I told her I already had my license back and now she will find out. What will I tell her this time? I keep lying to her. I really don’t want to but she keeps asking personal questions. I have to say something.
He wished he had been a little kinder to her at supper. She talked about his future. She said I have so much potential. Yeah, I think so too — so why can’t I get a decent job? And why does everything I touch turn into a bill at the end of the month? Why can’t I get my act together? Why did dad have to die anyway? I am so bloody unlucky. Look at this mess. My car is totaled. Why does everything happen to me?
He could see the broken power lines above him. He could smell the oil and gasoline bleeding out of his car. By turning his head, he could see the Amtrak bridge and the broken rail. He knew what time the trains came by; he used to live less than 500 yards from this spot. I just missed the 11:40 express. God — what a coincidence. His mind stopped, suddenly sobered on that thought. Only God could do that — only God. Why would He bother with a bum like me? I don’t deserve any favors. I... He... why me? For a few minutes, he tried to shake thoughts of God but could not. Tears began rolling out the corners of his eyes and up into his hairline.
The state highway patrol officer slammed his car door and slid down the embankment beside the bridge. He pointed his flashlight directly in front, fearful he might stumble onto a hot wire from the power lines or broken glass and sheared metal from the Chevy. He stopped. What is that noise? It sounds like someone singing... in the car. He reached the battered mass and peered inside.
Police Log: Arrested and booked Alan Taylor, twenty, on charges of reckless and drunk driving, driving without a license and speeding. Unable to give a breathalyser but car contained several bottles of beer and the suspect behaved in a manner consistent with someone who was not in control of their faculties.
“Can you believe this,” the officer laughed? “This black Chevy hit the Amtrak bridge rails and somehow flipped upside down off the bridge, hit the power lines, broke a bunch of wires, landed top down on the tracks below, minutes after the train goes by — and inside the car, the drunk driving the thing was hanging upside down. It took us nearly an hour to get him out of there. The lucky idiot didn’t have a scratch on him. Want to hear the really strange part? When I got there and even the whole time he was in my custody on the way to the station, he had the face of a child. He looked like someone who just got a medal or something. He kept singing some song over and over — not in tune mind you, but it sounded a lot like Amazing Grace.”
© Elsie Montgomery
At 11:57 p.m., Alan slumped upside down inside his car. At least the seat belt works. He moaned, lifting his left arm. He tried to move his legs. What am I doing here? He wiggled to free himself. Twisted metal came between him and the buckle. He felt blood flowing into his head. He laughed. Good thing I’m drunk. Yeah, good thing I‘ve been hanging upside down every night at the gym. The alcohol continued to do its job. Look at me — not a tense muscle in my body. I’m in great shape for the shape I’m in. I can sleep anywhere. Craziest trip I’ve taken. Might as well relax; the police will be along soon.
The state highway patrol officer was certain no one was alive in the car. He glanced at his watch. It must have happened after 11:40 or the eastbound Broadway Limited would have further remodeled the Chevy — along with everything inside it. He wondered what getting hit by a train would feel like. I bet it wouldn’t have made any difference to whoever was in this car. Dead is dead.
Alan’s mother worked all day in the retail outlet her husband owned before he died. Before retiring, she soaked her feet and took two pain killers. I don’t want to wake up during the night. I am so tired. I really need to sleep. She shut her eyes at 10:14. It seemed only moments when she opened them again at 11:05. She glanced at the clock. I don’t want to be awake. This is absolutely crazy.
For a few minutes, she stared at the little sparkles in the ceiling and tried to find Orion or Ursas Minor. Then she rolled several times, first to the right but her shoulder ached; then to the left but her right arm went numb. Why, God? Why can’t I sleep tonight? It has been a long day — and a long week. This isn’t fair.
She stumbled to the kitchen and put a mug of milk in the microwave. When it was warm, she walked sipping into the living room. Outside, the well-lit street was quiet. She was glad they were finally able to move away from the tracks. That Broadway Limited used to wake her up every night at 11:40. When Dave died, she used the insurance money to upgrade. This was a good move. This milk is good too. She felt sleepy again and returned to the bedroom. Just as she turned back the covers to crawl in, she heard a train whistle — it was the Broadway Limited. How can that be? We live twenty miles from the track?
Something is wrong. She slid out of bed and dropped to her knees. Lord, watch over that train tonight. You alone control what is happening. You are able to protect it and anyone concerning it. She prayed for its passengers, then for people who might be on the crossings. Alan. He’s okay. He’s at work, at Leek’s Cafe. He called and said he would be working until midnight. She prayed: Lord, keep Alan out of the path of that train. Keep him safe tonight. Help him to understand that You love him. May Your goodness lead him to repentance. She crawled under the sheets, closed her eyes and was instantly asleep. It was 11:41.
Alan looked again at his watch. It was 12:06. He was no longer laughing. My mother will never trust me again. I told her I already had my license back and now she will find out. What will I tell her this time? I keep lying to her. I really don’t want to but she keeps asking personal questions. I have to say something.
He wished he had been a little kinder to her at supper. She talked about his future. She said I have so much potential. Yeah, I think so too — so why can’t I get a decent job? And why does everything I touch turn into a bill at the end of the month? Why can’t I get my act together? Why did dad have to die anyway? I am so bloody unlucky. Look at this mess. My car is totaled. Why does everything happen to me?
He could see the broken power lines above him. He could smell the oil and gasoline bleeding out of his car. By turning his head, he could see the Amtrak bridge and the broken rail. He knew what time the trains came by; he used to live less than 500 yards from this spot. I just missed the 11:40 express. God — what a coincidence. His mind stopped, suddenly sobered on that thought. Only God could do that — only God. Why would He bother with a bum like me? I don’t deserve any favors. I... He... why me? For a few minutes, he tried to shake thoughts of God but could not. Tears began rolling out the corners of his eyes and up into his hairline.
The state highway patrol officer slammed his car door and slid down the embankment beside the bridge. He pointed his flashlight directly in front, fearful he might stumble onto a hot wire from the power lines or broken glass and sheared metal from the Chevy. He stopped. What is that noise? It sounds like someone singing... in the car. He reached the battered mass and peered inside.
Police Log: Arrested and booked Alan Taylor, twenty, on charges of reckless and drunk driving, driving without a license and speeding. Unable to give a breathalyser but car contained several bottles of beer and the suspect behaved in a manner consistent with someone who was not in control of their faculties.
“Can you believe this,” the officer laughed? “This black Chevy hit the Amtrak bridge rails and somehow flipped upside down off the bridge, hit the power lines, broke a bunch of wires, landed top down on the tracks below, minutes after the train goes by — and inside the car, the drunk driving the thing was hanging upside down. It took us nearly an hour to get him out of there. The lucky idiot didn’t have a scratch on him. Want to hear the really strange part? When I got there and even the whole time he was in my custody on the way to the station, he had the face of a child. He looked like someone who just got a medal or something. He kept singing some song over and over — not in tune mind you, but it sounded a lot like Amazing Grace.”
© Elsie Montgomery
August 01, 2008
Brick Walls - M. Laycock
I've been fighting frustration lately. Frustration with people who seem bent on destroying something beautiful, frustration with doors that slam in your face, frustration with pounding on brick walls that show no sign of crumbling. I confess I was ready to quit a couple of days ago. Ready to turn my computer off and walk away.
But then I managed to have a good night's sleep. (Amazing what that will do for your atttitude!) And then I received an e-mail from a woman telling me how much she is anticipating my sequel. And then I found this video clip.
It's of a university professor named Randy Pausch, giving his last lecture because he was dying of pancreatic cancer. He showed slides of his CAT scan, then he talked about acheiving his childhood dreams, dreams about creating something worthwhile, dreams about doing something important, dreams about just having fun.
I watched in awe as he laid out the pattern of his life - a life in which, in one way or another, he had managed to accomplish all of his childhood dreams. There was no spiritual message in his lecture, yet seeing how his life unfolded you couldn't miss the blessings of God.
He made a few statements worth noting.
The first one is - "Luck is where preparation meets opportunity. So be prepared."
The second is - "Brick walls aren't there to keep you out. They're there to show you how badly you want to accomplish your dream."
And the third - "Enabling the dreams of others might just end up being the best part of all, and certainly the most fun."
I listened to this video as I cut up another stack of bookmarks - another small battering ram for that brick wall.
But then I managed to have a good night's sleep. (Amazing what that will do for your atttitude!) And then I received an e-mail from a woman telling me how much she is anticipating my sequel. And then I found this video clip.
It's of a university professor named Randy Pausch, giving his last lecture because he was dying of pancreatic cancer. He showed slides of his CAT scan, then he talked about acheiving his childhood dreams, dreams about creating something worthwhile, dreams about doing something important, dreams about just having fun.
I watched in awe as he laid out the pattern of his life - a life in which, in one way or another, he had managed to accomplish all of his childhood dreams. There was no spiritual message in his lecture, yet seeing how his life unfolded you couldn't miss the blessings of God.
He made a few statements worth noting.
The first one is - "Luck is where preparation meets opportunity. So be prepared."
The second is - "Brick walls aren't there to keep you out. They're there to show you how badly you want to accomplish your dream."
And the third - "Enabling the dreams of others might just end up being the best part of all, and certainly the most fun."
I listened to this video as I cut up another stack of bookmarks - another small battering ram for that brick wall.
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