Express Train

We were on the "Express Train," going to downtown Chicago.  The train usually stops multiple times as it travels from the suburbs to Union Station, but our train was not going to stop at any of the last six stops before we got to Union Station.  It was going to be a quick trip.

And then, we stopped.  We weren't at a station and there wasn't anything we could see that was delaying us.Finally, a conductor told us that a freight train in front of us had "run into a bridge."

Some forty-five minutes later, they announced that we were going to have to back up to where we could switch to a different track.  That is exactly what we did.

While we were backing up, two non-express trains passed us on the way in to Chicago.  In the end, a trip that normally takes about an hour took two and a half hours.

I don't really think that life is like a mountain railroad, but there is no doubt that many things don't happen right on schedule, or according to plan.  There have been all too many times when I thought things were moving on the fast track, only to run into something that tried my small store of patience.

In the end, things happen according to God's time table and His trains do not run on a random schedule.  They run perfectly, in order to bring His people to the goal He desires for the.  This will not always be as fast as I want, but knowing that I am on His time table makes all of the difference.

Small Kindnesses

My son, Vince, struggles with loud noises.  I remember taking him to a children's musical and holding him, shaking through the entire thing.  Recently, at his Grandma W's dedication service, a praise band played.  The whole time, Vince cowered with his hand covering his ears.

The sound of hand dryers in bathrooms really bothers him.  Recently, we were in a national park bathroom and he was waiting for me with his hands over his ears, fearful that someone would activate the hand dryer.

A man stepped to the sink and washed his hands.  Then, he glanced over and saw Vince.  Two boys were at the sink next to him, also washing their hands.

"Don't use the hand dryer," he said softly to them, nodded courteously to me and stepped out of the bathroom.

In that moment, I was overwhelmed.  I was overwhelmed that someone had seen my son, covering his ears and had understood what his fear was.  I was overwhelmed at the basic kindness shown to my son by a stranger.

I am convinced that kindness begins with perception.  It is not enough to have a heart full of love.  If I do not see my brother's need, if I do not understand his pain, I can do nothing to show love to him in that situation.

All too often, I am so busy about my business that I don't see those in need at the edges of my road.  I miss the needy hanging around in the shadows.

If I do not see a boy standing in a public bathroom covering his ears and understand what his need is, I will never show him love.

And that would be very sad indeed.

Footprints in the Sand

We walked or, rather, hiked, down part of the Cumberland Trail.  It was a rough trail that lead from Signal Point, meandering up and down the side of the mountain, with (very occasional) amazing vistas to look out over the Smoky Mountains and the Tennessee River winding between them.

The trial is very rough.  When there are steps, they are often large and irregular.  At some point, I lifted my three year old son, Elliot, onto my shoulders and carried him.  Things were a lot easier after that time.  We could go at a faster pace and he didn't struggle with steps any more.

As I carried him down and then up the hill, I though of the story of the "Footprints in the Sand."  It tells how a man reaches the end of his life and sees it portrayed with two sets of footprints, except in certain areas where there was only one set.  God tells him that there was only one set of footprints in those locations, because God was carrying him through hard times.

That has not been my experience with God as my Father.  God does not lift me up on His shoulders to carry me across the uneven rocks, rather He takes my hand and with infinite patience coaxes me across the hard places.

It is His strength that upholds me, His will that guides, and His foreknowledge that chooses the trail that I take.  He never carries me over the rough places, but instead helps me through them.

This is the way that I gain strength, which I would not do if He carried me.  For, my God loves me enough to do for me what He can help me do myself and patient enough to let me take my time doing it.  And that makes Him a most Awesome Father!