Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head
It was hard getting out of bed this morning. The weather having cooled considerably made my comforter oh-so warm and snuggly... I looked at my yellow moonbeam alarm clock and saw it was 5:30, so I closed my eyes... and opened them again to see that it was 5:45. Where did those fifteen minutes go?
I steeled myself for the cold air that would embrace my body as soon as I threw the covers aside, then forced myself out of bed and made a beeline to my closet where I flailed around in its dark recesses hoping to lay my hands on the bathrobe I had not worn since last spring. Once wrapped in my fuzzy robe, I managed to find my way into the living room and lay my hands on my iPod Touch before I realized that I had left my spectacles on the nightstand beside my bed. Usually I settle on the sofa for my morning Bible reading, but today it turned out that I would have to return to bed with the iPod to find out what happened next in 2 Chronicles, Ezekiel, and John.
As it turned out, Solomon dedicated the temple and lifted up an awesome prayer of thanksgiving to God, Ezekiel gave even more precise measurements of the temple than he had the day before, and Jesus managed to offend Jewish religious leaders by healing a man on the Sabbath. That Jesus! Always doing the right thing on the wrong days and making supposedly righteous men want to kill him...
So, for the second time this morning, I had to stir myself out of bed. This time I told myself that I really needed to wash my hair before school, so I made a dash to the shower, turned on the water to get it heated, and used my electric shaver to chop down my stubble in the meantime. The shower was wonderfully warm, but it had to end at some point, so out I came, dressed, and drove to school.
At 8 o'clock I went outside to greet elementary students, and as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, it began to rain. This was not a warm shower like I had had at home. It was a multitude of cold raindrops driven by a blustery wind, spattering my pant legs and shirtsleeves, drizzling down the lenses of my glasses, and re-rinsing my freshly washed hair. Eventually I remembered that I had an umbrella in my car and used it to keep myself from getting completely soaked, but by then I was chilled and damp and looking forward to getting back inside where it was warm and dry.
Which makes me wonder about Jesus and his walking on the water that I read about yesterday morning when it wasn't so hard to get out of bed. Did he get wet? Was he cold out there in the middle of the stormy lake? Or was he miraculously warm and dry when he came striding through the waves and climbed into the boat? And why did the disciples take off without Jesus in the first place? John says that when it got dark, the disciples cast off for Capernaum leaving Jesus somewhere up in the hills by himself. Did they get impatient? How was Jesus supposed to get back to Capernaum? Walk?
I think it is interesting that when they left Jesus a storm blew up and kept them from getting home, but when Jesus arrived on the scene and got into the boat, they got home in almost no time at all. I find that in my own life, when I decide not to wait on Jesus and set off on my own, I lose my way pretty fast and wind up sailing into some pretty rough seas that I can't handle on my own. And it isn't until I turn and see Jesus strolling through the storm like it's a walk in the park on a summer's day, that everything turns around and I find peace. Sometimes I can just sail right out of the place of peace where God has me resting and waiting on Him and get myself caught in a squall - and that's what my life is like without Christ - an out of control storm designed to drag me down to the ocean depths.
Jesus, remind me to keep you in my boat and remind me that even if it seems like you are sleeping while I am perishing, as long as you are in the boat, I can have rest and peace.
I steeled myself for the cold air that would embrace my body as soon as I threw the covers aside, then forced myself out of bed and made a beeline to my closet where I flailed around in its dark recesses hoping to lay my hands on the bathrobe I had not worn since last spring. Once wrapped in my fuzzy robe, I managed to find my way into the living room and lay my hands on my iPod Touch before I realized that I had left my spectacles on the nightstand beside my bed. Usually I settle on the sofa for my morning Bible reading, but today it turned out that I would have to return to bed with the iPod to find out what happened next in 2 Chronicles, Ezekiel, and John.
As it turned out, Solomon dedicated the temple and lifted up an awesome prayer of thanksgiving to God, Ezekiel gave even more precise measurements of the temple than he had the day before, and Jesus managed to offend Jewish religious leaders by healing a man on the Sabbath. That Jesus! Always doing the right thing on the wrong days and making supposedly righteous men want to kill him...
So, for the second time this morning, I had to stir myself out of bed. This time I told myself that I really needed to wash my hair before school, so I made a dash to the shower, turned on the water to get it heated, and used my electric shaver to chop down my stubble in the meantime. The shower was wonderfully warm, but it had to end at some point, so out I came, dressed, and drove to school.
At 8 o'clock I went outside to greet elementary students, and as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, it began to rain. This was not a warm shower like I had had at home. It was a multitude of cold raindrops driven by a blustery wind, spattering my pant legs and shirtsleeves, drizzling down the lenses of my glasses, and re-rinsing my freshly washed hair. Eventually I remembered that I had an umbrella in my car and used it to keep myself from getting completely soaked, but by then I was chilled and damp and looking forward to getting back inside where it was warm and dry.
Which makes me wonder about Jesus and his walking on the water that I read about yesterday morning when it wasn't so hard to get out of bed. Did he get wet? Was he cold out there in the middle of the stormy lake? Or was he miraculously warm and dry when he came striding through the waves and climbed into the boat? And why did the disciples take off without Jesus in the first place? John says that when it got dark, the disciples cast off for Capernaum leaving Jesus somewhere up in the hills by himself. Did they get impatient? How was Jesus supposed to get back to Capernaum? Walk?
I think it is interesting that when they left Jesus a storm blew up and kept them from getting home, but when Jesus arrived on the scene and got into the boat, they got home in almost no time at all. I find that in my own life, when I decide not to wait on Jesus and set off on my own, I lose my way pretty fast and wind up sailing into some pretty rough seas that I can't handle on my own. And it isn't until I turn and see Jesus strolling through the storm like it's a walk in the park on a summer's day, that everything turns around and I find peace. Sometimes I can just sail right out of the place of peace where God has me resting and waiting on Him and get myself caught in a squall - and that's what my life is like without Christ - an out of control storm designed to drag me down to the ocean depths.
Jesus, remind me to keep you in my boat and remind me that even if it seems like you are sleeping while I am perishing, as long as you are in the boat, I can have rest and peace.
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