believe

I was blessed beyond my dreams tonight.

I went to the dentist, to church to take care of some paperwork, to Starbucks for a pick-me-up iced raspberry mocha before work.  it seemed a typical day.

and at work, I was just sitting, taking care of my paperwork, greeting the women as they came into Curves.  

one of the women came up to me after she finished her workout.  her name is Maria Gordon, and she is quite possibly the sweetest lady I know.

she has battled breast cancer for several years -- and she has won.  but she said that she wore a bracelet all through her years with cancer, a bracelet that has the word believe written on it.

it's just one of those simple rubber bracelets, like the ones Lance Armstrong made famous.

she slipped it off her wrist and on to mine, saying, "I've won my battle, dear, with help and with faith -- yours is just beginning.  so wear this on your journey."

after all, I'm leaving the country for three months, to take 18 units with people I have never met before, in a place that I don't speak the language, all while struggling with a headache that has lasted nearly 9 months and counting.

so wear it I shall -- each step of the way, each mini-adventure within my adventure, until I return.  and then, who knows?  maybe I'll find someone else in need of a little bit of faith, someone facing a difficult and exciting time in their life.  

or maybe I'll need it still, to get through this on-going struggle with my headaches.  maybe through faith, and prayer, I can gain back some of the strength that my headaches constantly drain from me.

and maybe I can hand it off, continuing a tradition of love and a spirit of faith.

after all, isn't that all we need?  faith in the love of Christ.

not quite sure.

so, this is just a little something I've been working on.  I don't really know where this came from or where it is going . . . we'll see, I s'pose :-)

I hadn't come home this way in a long time.  Actually, it had been seven years.  And I didn't know why I decided to take that road.  Or why I'm now writing this down.

But go down that road, I did.

The last time I'd been there, I had been a kid -- 14, maybe, on my way home from my older brother's spelling bee.  The day my brother had qualified for nationals.  The day a week before my father and brother left for Washington, D.C., and never came back.  It was the day I first saw him.

Since I had just been along for the ride, I had long since finished the book I had brought to occupy myself with.  I had resorted to counting fence posts along that long, winding country road, trying to stay awake.  But then all of a sudden, the fence posts changed.  They were bigger, simpler, sturdier.  I sat up and looked past the posts.

There was this huge, expansive ranch.  We drove alongside it for several minutes, alongside pastures full of sheep and cattle, before I saw the barns and the three houses.  Before I saw him.

At first glance, he didn't seem to be very unique.  Just a kid on a horse, trailed by two or three dogs.  Blue jeans, t-shirt, boots, baseball cap.  Good steady seat and hands as he guided his mount.  He couldn't have been more than 16 -- just another kid.

And yet . . . 

Something made me do a double-take.  Something made me look harder, to see him clearly.  And something caused me to remember his face.  It was etched into my mind, and in the horrifying weeks to follow that day, that boy's face would come to me at the strangest times, both comforting and bewildering me. 

Fog

the last few days have brought some interesting weather to this area.

there was some severe fog on Thursday and Friday morning.  when I was driving home on Thursday evening, the fog was literally overwhelming.  I could not even see the double-yellow line on the road that night, and the car that passed me seemed to be a mere reddish lump shrouded in the thickest of greys.  I was not too concerned for my safety, I knew the roads I was travelling very well indeed.  but it occurred to me that if I had not known the road as well as I do, or if I had been surrounded by other vehicles, I would have been very concerned indeed.

Friday afternoon, however, the wind picked up, and with the full force of the winter Santana's bearing down, the fog reluctantly swept itself away.  the Santana winds are a funny thing down here is Southern California.  

Santana is Spanish for Devil -- these winds are long, hot, dry winds, blowing in from the east, bringing the heat of the desert down on the cities and people of Riverside and Orange Counties.  these winds always manage to fill our streets and lawns and gutters with leaves, even in the relative "dead of winter" that we experience in this mild temperate zone.  it often seems as tho every speck of dirt in the county is swirling in the Santana air, attacking our dry and cracking lips, tangling in our suddenly static-charged hair.  the heat comes as well, shocking our systems with uncharacteristic weather for January -- 70s, 80s, and occasionally 90s as the winds blow relentlessly.

it often takes a few days for the winds to die down, but when they do, the air is clear and clean and breathtakingly sharp.  there is no longer any hint of fog on the horizon, nor will there be for some time.  the dirt has been cleansed from the air and is not hovering on the edges of the horizon -- it has been driven far away.  the full moon and the brilliantly bright stars shine down from a clear sky, glittering, turning night into day.

I think that in a way, our Christian walk is like the past few days of weather we've had.  sometimes, we get caught in some awful downs, we get cloaked and hooded and confused by the fog.  it may or may not be of our own doing, but we must deal with the consequences that develop.  I was not in any danger during my drive home that night -- but had I been a little more tired, had that other driver had a little more to drink or a little less control of his vehicle, had I not known that the road curved exactly so at that point, the night may have ended quite differently.  

but thank God I knew where I was, and what to expect along the way.  I was slow and careful even while knowing where I was going -- but if I had not known what was coming, my drive would have been incredibly different.

it's the same way with our faith.  we know where we are going.  God has given us a clear and definite picture of our ultimate futures -- we will be with Him in heaven.  and since we were designed to live there, our entire being yearns to join Him there, and to join Him there now.  we know the final destination -- but we have no idea what path He is taking us on to get there.  the roads are shrouded in fog.  we've never taken these roads before, and the directions He left us are only clear with certain aspects of the drive.  some things He has left for us to figure out, with His help, but on our own.  

soon, the winds will come.  and at first we will be grateful -- the winds drive the fog away, and we can see the roads at last.  but soon we might be cursing the winds, for there is a price to pay for the diminished fog.  we are hot now, thirsty and tired, worn-out and dehydrated.  we are caught in the devil winds, struggling for clean air, and attempting to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.

through it all, however, rather wrapped in fog or pounded by the winds, He is there.  He will guide and protect us -- He will steady our steps and soothe our chapped skin.  He is waiting for us, with clear skies and a full moon, until all the fog has been wiped away and all the winds have been calmed.  He is in control, over the weather and over our circumstances.  

"Who is this Man, that even the wind and the seas obey Him?"

it's true -- the weather does obey Him.  how much more, then, should we obey Him?  and should we not obey the One Who sent Him?  there will be patches of fog, and incredible winds, but He will lead us through all of those, and into the clear night when we can bask in the light of His glory.  may the Lord be praised, for His lovingkindness is everlasting!