Ever been in a boat on a lake?
You might answer yes to the title question but if you read further, the question isn’t finished yet.
And the dark clouds have gathered quicker than you expected,
and you are in the middle of the lake open to the elements?
I have been in such a situation. We had gone fishing early
in the morning. The sky was showing off its beautiful Florida dawn colors. The
lake was like glass. We had hot coffee
in each of our cups and headed our small boat out across the lake. It was a picture-perfect
day.
Our anticipation of having a good day fishing was the only
thing on our minds. We anchored near a clump of low-hanging tree branches and
cast in the first of many worms. Within seconds, I had pulled in a beautiful
largemouth bass. My excitement was evident. I’d learned how to cast a perfect
cast under the branches. The bass were bedding, and they hated to have anything
invade their beds.
We trolled casually around the edge of the lake getting
further from the boat ramp. Because the situation was so advantageous to
fishing we lost sight of the clouds gathering over our heads. I glanced up a
time or two but because the fishing had taken my entire attention off those
slightly darkening clouds, I missed the still small voice within me cautioning us
to begin to slowly make our way back toward where we had parked the truck.
Calamity often strikes us quickly. Sometimes we have
warnings but most of the really devastating events in our lives come out of the
blue. A very appropriate description of our fishing trip.
One minute the sky was blue and inviting and the next it had
quickly darkened, and the wind had begun to whip up around our boat. It became
apparent that we might be in trouble.
Our small outboard motor was doing its best to get us back
to shore. I knew that we were in trouble. Why hadn’t I kept my eye on the clouds
around us? I had seen them getting a bit dark, but my mind was so fixed on
fishing that I ignored the clouds changing.
Sure enough, the wind grew stronger pushing against us as we
crossed the open lake. Halfway across, those luminous dark clouds unzipped, and
a torrent of rain began to sting our faces. Streaks of lightning zig-zagged a
few hundred feet from the lake.
I prayed. I really prayed. Not one of my daily, “thank
you for all your blessings” type of prayers. I pulled out the deep prayers I’d
prayed over my lifetime when I not only was in the midst of darkness, but I had
seen it coming kind of prayers.
There’s a difference between “saying we know God” and
KNOWING God. And because there is such a lifestyle, you can readily see it in
others.
There’s something about seeing that glint in someone’s eye
and hearing the strength of conviction in their voice when they AMEN to what
you have just said. It’s encouraging, unlike Elijah who thought he was the only
one when you see others share your faith.
I pray that you are one of those people who don’t just give lip service to knowing about God. I pray that you truly know Him by having a
rich trusting relationship with the King of Kings. That you hear His voice and
obey His instructions. So that when He says, “ head to the shore,” you will
listen.
I bless you.