It was the best of morn- wait! Uh, I think I wrote that one already.
It was the worst of mornings.
It’s been a while since I wrote one of these. I don’t know what that says about me or what’s been going on in my life right now, but today was the day I felt like I had something to say. Buckle in. This has a lot of moving pieces to it. At least, that’s what it feels like.
I woke up to my husband telling me it was 7:00am. That’s significant because I usually get up at 6:20am. I use TWO alarms to try to make sure that happens, but I have no memory of either of them going off.
It’s probably because I was pretty tired from the day before. We got to take our kids to new camper orientation at Hidden Falls Ranch, a summer camp that has been significant in the spiritual growth of 3 generations of our family. (This will be important later on).
We did a little bit of hiking – which is a big workout for someone who never hikes. But it was a great time together, on a gorgeous day, getting to enjoy the nature God created, in a place with so many memories to share. Despite being in the Palo Duro Canyon, it was a real high point of time together as a family (*wince here*).
We – and apparently that means just I – saw a big gray fox, we identified and avoided some poison ivy, played around a bit at Fern Falls (the most frequented falls of the 7 falls at Hidden Falls Ranch), and we came home tired but happy, with wet, muddy shoes that needed to dry out on the front porch.
Now insert a late bedtime, a morning rainstorm, and a return to the abruptly began morning with only 1 anthropomorphic alarm clock.
That day also happened to be one of the 2 days each year that I need to get up extra early to drive my oldest daughter to her allergist in Lubbock (that’s a little over an hour and a half drive from our house).
So when my husband woke me up at 7, we were already 15 minutes late leaving the house, and our younger daughter had only 20 minutes to get ready for school.
It was also my birthday.
We got in the van 30 minutes late, but on the way to our designated, necessary gas and breakfast stop. The rain was pouring, so I dropped my daughter at the door and pulled in for gas. When we had purchased our breakfast, we headed back into the rain. Unfortunately, there were several large puddles in the parking lot and my daughter tripped in one. She went down hard and hit her knee as well as winding up completely drenched in the puddle.
Tired, woke up late, heavy rain, fell into a huge puddle, and now a knee injury?
It wasn’t the first time that morning I wondered if I should just try to reschedule the day.
I got my daughter in the van and checked out her knee. Thankfully, she wasn’t bleeding or seriously injured.
Then I stopped and prayed an actual prayer for the first time that morning. You know, one that was more substantial than, “Oh God help!” or “God, please, please, please!”
It addressed our safety and ability to make it to the allergist before we would be too late and need to reschedule. Mainly, “Please give me wisdom and a sense of calm for this drive.”
God answered all my prayers, even the ones I didn’t know to ask.
Then, as we headed out into the rain and the dark, a song came to mind, and (as it may go without saying for me), went straight to voice. It’s from a Rich Mullins song popularly performed by Michael W Smith, and it may be familiar to you, too.
There are other songs that followed that in a little worship medley as I drove as safely and quickly as I could, gently hydroplaning down I-27 like a rock skipping over a pond.
The weather was poor enough, and the driving challenging enough that I never relaxed into comfortable driving that would make possible listening to an audiobook. So I just kept singing all the way there. I unexpectedly arrived at a song I learned at Hidden Falls Ranch. (See, I told you it would come back.)
Byron Williamson was the Director of Hidden Falls during the time I was a camper and a counselor. He has been a reference on a job application for hundreds of young adults who learned from his teaching and leadership. He has also performed and participated in many, many weddings of couples who met through Hidden Falls, including my wedding and my brother’s wedding.
And he continues to tell any young adult involved with the ranch that “camp relationships never work out.”
He’s a wonderful musician, and is in the process of recording the songs played at nightly “campfire” during his tenure at camp.
After my daughter’s very quick check up was complete, I texted Byron to ask if he had recorded “Let My Light Shine Bright” yet. He said he had, but also took a few minutes of his time to text the lyrics to me.
The road home was pretty uneventful and with much nicer weather, giving me a chance to both sing and think.
I found myself in a place of saying, “You picked me up. I’m trying to follow you. Speak to me again, Lord. It doesn’t really take a situation as stressful as this morning to get my attention. Does it?”
I have been mindful during all the Cuppas and Ponderings I’ve helped to distribute that I haven’t felt inspiration to write something of my own, but I haven’t felt that there was anything lacking in my relationship with God. Or that the absence of my written voice meant an absence of God’s voice in my life.
Apathy doesn’t seem like the right viewpoint either, but guilt – a kind I consider to be not-of-God – is buzzing around like a gnat to find some way to take my eyes off of the steps of the master I follow.
I’m reminded of a line from the show “The Chosen” when the character of the Apostle Matthew says that “I have only one thing to do today: follow him. The rest takes care of itself” (season 4, episode 2).
Maybe this is something you can relate to or at least understand. The times when the ship’s sails hang limp and windless, but the boat is still afloat. Things seem to be going well, but when your sails are still, you might not notice slowly drifting off your path.
Sometimes, it takes a storm to reawaken our spirit and rekindle your relationship with God.
I’m borrowing Doctor G’s prayer of the week, because it just fills all of the cracks in how I understood this moment of connection and clarity.
So if this connects with you, join in with me in saying “Lord, thank you for picking me up when I’m trying to live life on my own. I’m ready to follow you, step by step.”
Today’s special edition post is from Tova Dad, my favorite daughter and Virtual Assistant. She lives outside of Amarillo with her husband and their two daughters.
