Sunday, March 29, 2009
Lessons from the North Wind
"I don't quite understand you North Wind. You tell me what then." "Well I will tell you . If you see me with my face all black, don't be frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the whole sky, don't be frightened---you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can't see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. Do you understand?"
"Quite well," said little Diamond. (At the Back of the North Wind-George Macdonald)
I am learning to be like Diamond, though not ready to say, "Quite well" with as much belief behind it. God is under no obligation to explain things to me. Yet He does whisper, don't be frightened. He is under no pressure to move in my timing and He tells me, "I make all things beautiful in My time." He doesn't have to look like the God I picture Him to be, or the sweet little Jesus portrayed by some Master Painter. He is the Great I Am. How does one picture this?
So when the rug again gets tugged and I land on my back side looking up and weeping because I don't get it, I must realize that all I have to do is keep holding onto His hand. If I hold onto Him, I will know who He is at all times. Many times, I don't hold on, or at least I loosen my grip and don't feel the indents of His nail scarred hands and then I begin to question and fear. But it is I who have let my hold lessen when the darkness of the situation is upon me. The time I need to cling to the light, I panic and squirm to get to what I think is a reasonably safe place to be, yet He is all Goodness and Truth and will never let me go.
The beautiful thing about the Hand of God is His scars that touch my life remind me of the Love He has for me. If the circumstances of my life appear dark, I can feel His hand and remember that dark Friday when the scars were fresh wounds. The darkness of that day gave way to eternal beauty and the glory of the Lord reigned in heaven and on earth. The tears that I have cried today are not forgotten by my God. His hand reaches down and wipes my cheek while His voice whispers, "Peace, be still, do not be afraid." I may not recognize His shape at times, but I hear His voice and know Him and He knows me. I feel His hand and know the marks that represent my salvation, will faithfully guide and protect me. I know that the tears that have fallen and the prays that have been cried are worship to God's ears and that He loves me and hears my desperation.
The North Wind blows and I know not where it comes from or where it goes, but I believe....