When Divinity Storms

The storm mist swirls into the porch and sparks little snowflake sensations on my face and bare arms. Clattering rain on the tin roof overhead nearly clouds out the background tympani of thunder. I inhale deeply. The moistened air heavy with the scent of life. Its as if the whole world has been given a breath mint and when the downpour subsides its eyes are wide open.

I remember rain.

Dark rain coursing down sad windows.
Sun sparkled rain tickling the surface of lake waters above.
Cold European drizzles on narrow cobblestone streets.
Dashing into steamy Brazilian torrents to snatch the laundry from the lines.
Sharing an umbrella while selling books of hope to strangers.
Puddle jumping and all out mud fights.
Rain drenched skin and the joy of living.
Both funerals and weddings christened with graceful rain.
And the hope in Christmas lights is never so poignantly clear as on a bitter and blustery winter day.

It has been said by art instructors that "The shadow is as important as the light." The truth of this in two dimensions is ever more evident in our multidimensional existence. How quick I am to forget. Our tangible surroundings are always holding hands with spiritual truths. The truth of recognizing the shadows of God.

The warrior David describes the dark majesty of God rescuing him in Psalm 18. This psalm is a hymn of gratefulness penned on the day that the Lord delivered him from all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. Perhaps this is a poetic rendition of a specific event where God used a literal storm to protect him from his enemies.

"He bowed down the heavens also, and came down with darkness under His feet.
And He rode upon a cherub and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind.
He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. . . ." (vs. 9-11)

"He sent from above, He took me. He drew me out of many waters.
He also brought me out into a broad place, He delivered me because He delighted in me." (vs. 16, 19)

This is no pastel portrait of divinity on a sunny picnic. It is a rich word palate with all the colors of a storm. Ripped strength and raw energy pulse forward to culminate in a miraculous rescue. A reminder that God is not just present in serene pastures but also in the shadows of death. That God himself is a warrior fighting for the defense and justice of those who trust Him. The stalwart truth about God in storms.

My God is not a placid God. His storms have purpose. His shadows are strength.
And even if I am not the one to witness the rescue,
His gift of rain cycles on.

Wings of the Dawn

Last night when I tucked into bed I was scared.

Not of resting, but of falling asleep to anesthesia the next morning. My surgeon had requested a repeat uppper GI scope before scheduling the surgery to remove the tumor. I agreed it needed to be done and mentally I understood the procedure, but my whole body constricted at the thought of being intubated again.

Laying there in the dark my mind fumbled for hymns and verses to steady my heart, but I kept tripping on the vivid terror of waking up on a ventilator the last time they did this procedure. Yes, there had been complications. . . but even months later I still cannot fall asleep with a shirt or blanket snugged close around my neck.

Then a tune slipped between my thoughts and I could breath deep again.

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, If I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast."

It is the chorus to a choir song from academy years and the words to one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. These promises have walked me through every chapter of my life thus far. And last night they were my lullaby.

I arrived at the hospital this morning with a greater measure of peace in my heart, but God knew I was still struggling and He had several blessings in store:
When I arrived in pre-op my nurse told me that she has been praying for me every morning because I am on the prayer list at her church, and how glad she was to meet me.
Then God sent Kristin Thomas to come access my extremely positional port - she is in my humble opinion is the best IV team nurse ever! It's nice to have friends in medical places :)
Then another nurse came in and we all had prayer together.

As I turned over and they put the plastic bite block into my mouth the fear swelled up again. God, please help me not to fight them this time, help me not to aspirate. But then a bigger wave rolled over it. . . "If I rise on the wings of the dawn. . . ." and there was peace.

When the Doctor brought the results in he said that the tumor has shrunk a lot - up to 75%!!! I'm so very grateful! I'm still facing a complex and tricky surgery, but the chances of the being able to eradicate the cancer has improved! Thank you for your prayers!

"Even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast."