Don't Squander the Wander!

Coasting through life. Sounds good! Just easy living. No worries. Nothing dramatic, just comfortable.

Yes, I would like fries with that.

We dream of 70 degrees year round, with perfect sunny days and palm trees lining our waterfront view. Utopian daydreams of a place that doesn’t exist. Closest thing to this dream land Hubs and I have seen is a tropical paradise in Central America, where we lived for two years many moons ago. One guys paradise is another gringo’s heat wave. We rarely saw days with highs as low as 70 degrees, and spent many months in monsoon mode, dodging puddles and tropical storms instead of basking under the shadows of sun streaked palms. One of the most notable things about this environment was the lack of seasons. You might think I’m crazy, but I missed having four clearly identified seasons. We lived on wet or dry, green or brushfire.

Overarching weather seasons have typical norms, bringing a predictability with its own comfort level. We know when to brace for the cold, when to step out into the sunlight, and when to hunt for the next airconditioned refuge from the steamy summer days.

But, within each season we need to keep mindful on the daily.

Not every moment is predictable, especially in the south where we joke of having four seasons in a day. Start out in a sweater and end up in a t-shirt. That’s the south for ya.

We’ve moved many times over the years. We’ve lived in a variety of climates. Spent months loathing lake effect snowstorms. Marveled in the springtime beauty of cherry blossom tree-lined paths around our nation’s monuments. We’ve endured ice storms, snow blizzards, droughts, tornadoes, hurricanes, rising water marks and high winds. Pick a natural phenomenon, and we’ve probably seen it.

Fun times, fun times.

Hubs and I have a thing for weather radars. We like them. We keep track of what pattern is heading our way, how the elements change, what route they forge, and what damage each system creates. Given data, we have a clue on whether to buckle down the hatches and ride out the storm, or when to just hang out for a minute while the bluster passes by.

On high risk days we watch the waves of green, yellow, and red dance across the radar display. Mesmerized by the landscape of our country with wispy patterns of precip charging across the screen. We are gripped watching the tv broadcast and thankful for the meteorologist’s experience and understanding, giving us analysis and recommendations that keep us safe.

In this thing called life, we often watch as unexpected physical, spiritual, and emotional storms arrive in the lives of those we love. Often before we experience such challenges ourselves. We hear of rain and wind and hail. An unexpected barrage of the elements of life. These become the days of hearing struggles of friends that we love, trying to sympathize, without having any bearings in which to empathize. We sit, we stay, we love. We pray.

We can speak of it, but we can’t really speak into it.

Despite our naïve perspective, God will use to speak encouraging words, extend love and hugs, and pray. If we say yes to the call.

One day, we may find a similar wave of struggle pass over our own life and family. Suddenly, we see exactly what our friend endured. Circumstances might be different, we may have rain and not hail, but we understand the sound of the wind. Empathy is found in experience. In the silence, we dwell on the memories of those who have forged this path and gain sudden clarity of what they must have felt, seen, prayed. We glean from their experience and add that insight to our new clarity of confluence. Now we know the little tricks and helps and words of life, from our own distinct perspective.

But who is next? Where is that wave of warfare fury headed? Will it arch to the north, or bend to the south? Will it strengthen or weaken? We who have seen the clouds roll in, smell the scent of the air change, and maybe even recognize the faint green tint of impending tornado, have a role to play. If we take the challenge.

We who have walked the broken road have a God-given purpose to find the ones who are entering the pathway of shared experiences and sit with them awhile. Offer words of life. Hold the rescue rope of hope out and ask the hurting to grab on, so we may pull them out of the quicksand of life. Offer the hand of God, and the healing in His wings. Pray. Effective prayers.

Empathetic, tender, compassionate prayers. Full of faith.

Knowing the God who heard you in your distress is the same God who hears now.

Jesus is with these new travelers of this broken road, just as He is with you.

Whether the storm clears quickly, with great victory and fanfare, or if those clouds roll in and remain a lifetime, we still look to the promised eternal hope. Jesus promises us eternal life, with the Father in heaven. Jesus has brought us victory over the grave. He is sitting at the right hand of the Father. He has prepared a place for us. Without the storms of life.

There will be no tears, no sadness, no fear, no pain. Nothing but perfect fellowship and glorified bodies. Where the only name proclaimed is the name of Jesus – the only One who gets any glory or fame is the Lord.

No matter the number of days between us and eternity, this same promise and hope remains. I’m amazed God allows the weak and feeble to help share His story and His love. Yet He does. Will we join in?