The Shaft of Hope

The weatherman was wrong. I don't mind when he's wrong and instead of rain on a skiing day we get snow. But I think he should have his license revoked when on a day I am driving through the mountains, he predicts rain, and instead I get sleet, icy rain mixed with snow, and a white knuckle blizzard. For four hours, I didn't speak. I just gripped the steering wheel and stayed behind the slowest car on the road....which would be me...so I guess I stayed behind the *second* slowest car on the road. It was a long four hours. By the time we hit the equator, the snow let up and became the expected and prophesied rain. Kudos to Mr. Meteorology.

It could have been worse. I could have found the black ice that I know was lurking. And it took my mind off of feeling sad that I was leaving my folks, who I don't get to see as often as I would like. And the hotel we were staying in was 30% off due to construction. I don't mind construction at all as long as they are not constructing while I am sleeping. We met my son Matt and wife Karissa for dinner, and all was well. It is predicted to be almost 50 degrees today, and the sun is out as I am typing this, so I think yesterday's sleet can go in the waste basket of unpleasant memories.

As we drove through the storm, we did see one very unusual and hopeful sign. The thick blanket of fog and clouds had a hole in them for a brief time. All was grey and sleety rain around us, dark and foreboding, but up ahead, there was an oval of blue sunny sky. We could look through the hole to see fluffy white fair weather clouds.
"Isn't that strange, and wonderful?" I said to Asherel.
She glanced up from her personal iPod concert of Beatle tunes, entering it's 6th straight hour now.
"Hmmm," she said.

I suppose she hasn't yet had enough storms in life to really know that ovals of blue sky are desperately to be desired. She has probably not yet been surrounded by despair, darkness closing in on all sides so that you see no way out. I pray she never will be, but having lived a half century or so on this planet, I think it unlikely she will not one day experience something like that. I think we all do.

But I loved the image of the blue sky poking a finger through the swirling storm. If at the center, we can keep our focus on the source of light, of life.... the storms lose a touch of their fearsome power. We know there is hope, something better, clear roads somewhere, if we will just grip the wheel and trudge slowly on.

I remembered Mom telling me that I had to go look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom where they recently installed a skylight. Something about the muted, natural light beaming down into the dark bathroom smoothed the age ravaged hills and valleys and desecrated patches of the face.
"I don't like to look in the mirror if I can help it," said my mom, (who is by the way, a beautiful woman), "But I don't mind so much if I stand in the light of the sky light."

Look for the patch of glory.
Focus on the shaft of hope in the midst of the storm.
Find the light that reflects promise, and beauty, and joy.
"Keep your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of your faith."

Psalm 16:8
I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.


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