Thursday, September 28, 2017

A Marred Image



For You will light my lamp; The Lord my God will enlighten my darkness.
(Psalm 18:28 NKJV)

            Because of shortened fall days, darkness welcomed me when I stepped onto my patio. With a small light, I studied the Bible and read my daily devotionals.

            In the quietness before dawn, leaves rustled. A hidden bird chirped. Blackness concealed the lake.

            Bit by bit, light intensified and broke through. Across the lake, a blushing sky appeared with the dawn. Overhead, an expanse of azure brightened my morning with an expectation of a sparkling lake.

            But a very different picture emerged. Blobs of algae marred the surface of the water and destroyed the image in my imagination. Instead of a glittering lake, I saw a mottled mess.

            Other sights added to the gloominess. A brown limb, broken by Hurricane Irma, dangled from one of the cypress trees. Dead stems covered plants near my porch. Clumps of decaying grass remained from the previous week’s mowing. The dismal scene looked much different from the usual cheery one.

            However, when I stared at the forlorn picture, sunlight blazed between the pine trees and formed a path across the lake. Tiny clouds danced above the water in the stream of light. Dew sparkled on the grass and orange flowers. A spider web glistened. Small touches of beauty transformed the setting into something lovely.

            Often, anticipation doesn’t match reality. A choice is made to focus on what is marred or appreciate surprises of hope and encouragement within the messes of life.

Creator, help me see and embrace the gifts of hope and encouragement even in the trials of life. Amen

            

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Thankfulness After Hurricane Irma



“I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 NIV)

            In my area of Central Florida, life’s returning to normal after Hurricane Irma. Towering piles of tree debris line now open roads. In some neighborhoods, dangling wires remain but power has been restored in most areas.

            A few days earlier when I drove down the interstate, convoys of power trucks joined normal traffic in both directions. Tears pricked my eyes as I saw license plates from Kentucky and Maryland. Others were too far away to see their states.

            While driving through a neighborhood, power company trucks lined a narrow street. Workers directed traffic, searched for problems, and perched high above the street as they repaired wires. My thankfulness for their tiring work increased as I neared them. Tears blurred my eyes as I read “Dallas, Texas” on the side of their trucks.

            After their state suffered horrible effects from Hurricane Harvey, those men traveled to Florida to assist us. I could hardly mumble my thanks to one of the workers without breaking down in tears.

            As Floridians endured time without AC, TV, phones, and internet, thousands of utility workers, first responders, insurance adjusters, garbage men, tree trimmers, electricians, and countless others slaved in the wind, rain, and heat to do their jobs.

            Every time I see them in person or on the news, I think of the sacrifices they have made. Not only do they face dangerous situations, but they are fatigued like the rest of us. However, they are also away from their families and homes. Some for long stretches of time.

            Thousands of workers display the true spirit of America. Our diverse country always comes together in a crisis. Pray for the strength, safety, and peace of all affected by the storms, fires, and earthquakes here at home and in other areas.


Heavenly Father, we don’t know why so many tragedies are striking the world right now but we know You can make something good out of it. Help us to be thankful and patient as we recover. Amen

Friday, September 15, 2017

After Irma

 Red brake lights glowed as I approached the St. Johns River bridge. 

            On, no. With a traffic jam, I wouldn’t get to church on time for lunch.

            As I crested the bridge, lights dimmed with no evidence of a crash. My eyes locked on the caravan in the right lane. White power company trucks stretched as far as I could see down the interstate.

            News reports told of workers waiting at the Daytona Speedway to begin repairing electrical lines after the hurricane passed. But actually seeing the trucks brought tears. I thought of millions in Florida without power because of Irma.

            When I neared the trucks, I saw they were all from Maryland. They left their jobs, families and friends to engage in dangerous work to serve Floridians. 

            An Indiana cousin’s coworker’s husband had been dispatched earlier. Workers from several states worked in areas hit by Harvey and then came to the disaster in Florida. 

            Thank you, Lord, for sending us help.            

            Throughout the time before, during and after Irma, people stepped up to help one another. I wanted to personally thank the drivers but couldn’t do that in expressway traffic.  I waved but from their high perches they probably couldn’t see me. I was so thankful for them.

            Their destination was a mystery. Perhaps they stopped near Orlando or traveled further to south Florida. Wherever they ended up, their presence blessed Florida. 

            At church, I joined an army of volunteers preparing to serve a free, hot lunch to our weary community. A day earlier, church staff decided we needed to be Jesus to those affected by Irma. An invitation spread on Facebook and Z88, a local Christian radio station. Volunteers and hungry residents shared the news and hundreds showed up. 

            Tables, chairs, volunteers and staff prepared the large foyer. Grills began cooking hot dogs and hamburgers.  For almost three hours, nonstop cooks stood over stifling grills. Tables of lemonade and water waited for hot, thirsty visitors.

            Before the designated time, people arrived. With so many coming, we began serving early. The grills couldn’t keep up with the demand. As people waited at my table, we talked to them and listened to stories. Most had no power. Some had no water. 

            We offered food, cool drinks and encouraging words. The never ending line extended beyond my sight. Church friends and strangers passed by me. They came from communities around Orlando. All thankful for the respite. 

            An assortment of people passed by. Elderly in wheelchairs rolled past. Young parents with children in strollers. Families with several children. Middle aged parents with teenagers. Volunteers stepped up to help carry plates and get drinks. They prayed for individuals. 

            Because no one knew how many people would show up, food ran low. Staff made trips to find additional food in a community with few open stores. Boxes of bagged snacks next to me dwindled to nothing and then more boxes appeared. Hamburgers and hot dogs cooked on an additional grill. Pulled pork, pulled chicken, slaw and baked beans appeared at the end of the lunch. 

            Visitors could also take home a meal for a friend or family member who couldn’t attend. Those meals ran out too but more appeared. 

            Volunteers of all ages cooked, served food, provided drinks, cleaned tables, welcomed visitors, and most of all loved like Jesus. As some volunteers came from powerless homes, they put aside their own problems for the day to serve someone else. After days of stress and uncertainty, the festive atmosphere lifted spirits of everyone.


            When I looked at the variety of people in my church who were talking, laughing and praying together, I knew we were being the church without even entering the sanctuary. We didn’t talk about theology but just loved those around us. What a way to be Jesus.

Friday, September 8, 2017

The Approaching Storm



For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7 NIV)

            A full moon illuminated my lawn when I stepped into the predawn blackness to retrieve my newspaper. In awe, I stared at the luminous moon, twinkling constellations, and glowing planets. The serenity of the sky contrasted sharply with images of massive hurricane Irma charging through the islands and on to Florida and states further north.

            With mandatory evacuations in South Florida and others trying to flee the state, bumper to bumper traffic stretched from the Keys to the northern border. Airports filled as travelers tried to make flights before airports closed. Canceled flights brought more stress for harried residents and tourists.

            People spent hours and hours waiting to purchase water, batteries, generators and gasoline. Retailers watched shelves empty within minutes. Truckers delivered goods constantly with little rest. The highway patrol kept gas lines moving at stations along the turnpike.

            For years, overactive newscasters and meteorologists predicted numerous and strong hurricanes. Most of the time it never happened. People became complacent. But after the recent disaster from Harvey and visuals of a massive Irma, people listened.

            Preparations began early. Constant coverage informed but also frightened as updates often changed directions of the approaching storm.

            From the Florida Keys, low lying regions, coastal areas, and mobile homes, residents were told to leave.
            Governor Scott said, “Things can be replaced. Families can’t be put back together. No one will be able to rescue those who remain behind to ride out the storm.”      Thankfully, most are in the process of leaving.

            As I prepare my house, questions come. Will my house be flooded? Will the roof hold? Will streets be cleared for me to return home from Chris and Anne’s? Will my windows break? Will a tree fall on my house? Will we take a direct hit?

            During my morning devotions on the patio, I stared at the sky over the lake. In the midst of uncertainty and turmoil around me, God provided a place of peace. Above the dark forest, a border of dazzling sunlight highlighted bluish clouds. Seconds later, the sun emerged and lit up the entire lake.

            The unexpected display reminded me that God is near even in our storms. While I can make preparations to protect myself and my home, only God is in control.

            Please pray for those who have already been impacted by the storm and for those of us who wait. Pray for safety and compassion as we all face an unknown outcome. Pray that God will be seen clearly.


Dear Lord, thank you for reminding us of your nearness even in the storms. You can stop the winds or change the path. Even if you don’t, give us strength to face them. Amen