He shall cover you with his feathers, and under his wings shall you trust: his truth shall be your shield and buckler. ~ Psalm 91:4
It’s a very stormy day today. The sun seems to have disappeared completely. Dark gray clouds hover just above the houses. Booming thunder roars and lightning bursts keep providing glimpses of light. I love this kind of storm because I know it is washing the world clean, helping our local farmers, watering the flower and vegetable garden, etc. I’m such a fan that I would take a cup of hot tea and head for the back porch to immerse myself in the grandeur of this storm.
I would go except that the three pets in our home are not as happy about the storm as I am. The two cats are perched along side of me, one on each side, while our Chihuahua will not let me out of his sight. I tried to run to the other room, but he follows me in there. He shakes, whimpers and refuses to sleep.
I sat down on the couch with my lap top and grabbed a quilt. He went under the quilt but has to have his head out so he can see what is going on. I wish he wasn’t so afraid. I wish I could explain to him that the storm is raging outside but that here, in the shelter of the house, we are safe. I think he feels relatively safe as long as he’s in my lap. At least the shaking and the whimpering stop when he’s there.
His reaction to this particular storm got me thinking about me. When the storms of this life roll in (and they do and will), how do I respond? Do I rush to the back porch to watch what God is doing up and close and personal? Or do I cringe in the corner, trembling and frightened? I guess we would all like to say we are the brave, faithful Christian marching out into the storm, but the truth is that I am the corner croucher. Today though, I want to learn a lesson from my dog.
I don’t want Duke to be afraid. God doesn’t want me to be afraid. I can see the bigger picture and know that the storm will have many benefits that Duke can’t see. God sees the bigger picture and knows the benefits I can’t see. Duke is safe provided he stays in the shelter of our home. I am safe provided I stay in the shelter of God’s wings. I will hold Duke and offer comfort and security when he crawls into my lap; God will hold me, offering comfort and security, when I come to Him and call upon His name.
Even though I may not be to the point where I am running out to face the storm, I can stop cringing in the corner and climb into my Daddy’s lap. I can stay close and find comfort from the storm. I can draw my strength from the very one who made the storm. As I lovingly pet Duke’s head and whisper calm assurance, I can see God doing the same for me. And that, dear brother and sisters, is enough!