I’m going to tell you a story that has nothing to do with the recent elections. Is that okay?
The time change really screwed me up this weekend. I went to bed worried on Saturday night, anxious that I’d miss my 4:00 a.m. holy hour, and tossed & turned for several hours. When I woke up and saw that it was 1:52, I thought I’d might as well just get up.
So I went downstairs and started my coffee...
Then realized that it hadn’t been 1:52 at all. It was 11:52 when I got up, which meant little sleep before my holy hour but lots of sleep throughout it.
I’m sorry, dear Lord.
I was just…so tired.
Feeling both sleepy and hungry on my way home, I decided to swing by a 24-hour McDonald’s down the road from our church. I’m just a bit addicted to their breakfast sandwiches, if you must know, especially their sausage biscuits.
Was it God’s will for me to go to McDonald’s at that hour? Because just before I turned into the parking lot, I saw a man lying face down in the street. He was crumpled into a heap at the side of a car—prostrate, unmoving—and I was so afraid that he was dead.
I’ll admit, I was just as afraid to approach him.
Yet, I didn’t have my cell phone with me, having left it at the Cathedral the previous week. What could I do? How could I get help? I could tell the manager at McDonald’s, I guess, but then I saw another woman. She was sitting in her car, reading the paper and sipping a coffee. At 5:00 in the morning! What are the odds? I flew over.
Yes, she had a cell phone & yes, she would call 911. Together, then, we went to stand by the man, and fearfully I told her, “He’s not breathing.”
Except at that point he did breath. He gave a loud snore.
And I thought, “What a cold, uncomfortable place to pass out.”
It all worked out in the end, I think. The woman told me that I could go and she would wait for the police to arrive, which they did. (I saw the flashing lights as I pulled away from the drive-through, sausage biscuit in hand & leftover angst in heart.) I drove home praying for that poor man; I drove home thanking God for His providence.
See? I told you my story had nothing to do with the elections.
Or does it?
I think—no, I trust—that it will be okay. We may see things that shock and sadden us, but God is ever at our side. He’s in control. We must cling to Him.
And I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am.
And every tear I've cried.
You hold in Your hand.
You never left my side,
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
-- Casting Crowns