"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts. "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:9-11 (NASB)
I left my home at 5 PM and forgot my winter coat to speak at a women’s function. I thought, “Oh well, I’ll be home in a couple of hours, I’ll survive.”
At 8:30 PM I stepped into six inches of snow in my toeless and backless shoes. Wet snow pouring from the skies soaked my hair as I brushed snow and scraped ice off all four sides of my car—coatless. I grabbed a crocheted afghan that I keep in my car, wrapped it snuggly around me, snapped on my seatbelt, and started my car. When it’s cold my car refuses to start, due to a sluggish alternator not in my budget at the moment. My engine turned over and I thanked God.
As I inched forward on the slippery roads, praise and worship music blasted from my radio. All around me semi-trucks, cars, SUV’s, and police cars with lights flashing sat sideways and backwards in ditches. The heavy snowfall blowing across the road blinded my vision. The whiteout obscured the street sign. I turned left at the road I thought led home. Cars bogged down on the steep hill sat askew, blocking my snowy trek home. I felt trapped as my gas gauge sat dangerously close to empty.
“God, please help me get home,” I prayed.
I spotted a small opening between the cars littering the incline. Inching my way through the maze of stalled and stuck cars, I broke free. A few SUV’s whizzed past me at dangerous speeds endangering everyone in their icy path. I thought, “Idiots!” and continued my glacial, ten-mile-per-hour, crawl on all four wheels. In the blinding, thick storm, none of the landmarks looked familiar.
I started to panic, “Where am I God? I don’t know where I am. I don’t recognize anything. Where does this road lead? Please let me come to a street I recognize.”
My shoulders and chest tightened up and then relaxed when a familiar, large building came into view. I was on the right road home. What a relief.
The steep hill delineating the street leading to my home immobilizes cars struggling to scale its upward trajectory. To avoid it, I ducked into a parking lot at the bottom of the hill and then exited onto the street above the precipitous slope. As I pulled safely into my driveway, I thanked God for safe passage home, and then waded in ankle-deep snow to the warmth of my home.
And that pretty much describes my life journey at the moment. As my faith inches along not sure where my life is headed, my emotions slip and slide, sometimes ditching hopes that daily life will return to mostly sunny and mild. So I look to the God of the heavens to lead me out of this blinding whiteout.
The spiritual snows blanketing my financial winter water my faith and trust in God to provide. I wrap my heart and mind in the warmheartedness of God’s promises. Sprouting from my trepidation is an excitement that God wants to accomplish what he desires for my life, my faith, my trust in him. Right now, I’m stranded by God’s love and I await God to pull me out of my circumstances.
El Jeshurun, there is none like you who, like the snow, rides the heavens and the skies to help me. Your word will not return to me empty. As the snow waters the harvest you bring, I look to you to supply my needs.