When lightning strikes
Last night, as The B99, our daughter, and I were watching TV, we heard a distinct sizzling sound and then a loud clap of thunder. All of us jumped up and began looking for signs of a lightning strike in the house. It was odd that the power was still on, and yet we were thankful to have the ability to see as we looked for burns around outlets. Finding nothing, we sat back down, relieved but also a bit confused. We knew we’d heard something.
This morning, we found it when Wendy tried to print something. Our printer was the winner of the “Lightning Strike” award! While we hate the hassle of picking out and setting up a new printer, we also recognize it could have been so much worse.
Isn’t that so often how storms affect us? We brace for the things that we know and we can see, and we feel as if we’ve weathered the worst of it. But it’s often later, after the storm has passed, when we begin to find the not-so-visible ways that we were affected.
A singe here and a slight burn there. We find ourselves a little less expectant, a little unsure of the promise. We tell ourselves it’s just the way it should be, and that maybe God wasn’t able to be good or to do good that one time.
I find it encouraging that all the people listed in the “Hall of Faith” of Hebrews 11 experienced the same storms and the same lightning strikes to the soul that we do. I don’t love it because misery loves company, but rather because their example is one that I can follow because their experience was like mine.
And all these, having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised, because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us they would not be made perfect. (Hebrews 11:39-40 NASB, emphasis mine)
These mighty men and women of faith knew that if they didn’t see the fulfillment, then it meant their God Father was still putting pieces together for the big reveal. They knew that if the promise hadn’t come yet, it was because something better was on the way.
Shopping for printers doesn’t feel better. Neither does grieving the loss of a friend. But today, we place our trust in a good Father — in a Good Shepherd — and trust Him to lead us to the better that He promised.
And it’s ok to cry along the way.
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