When is the last time God woke you up to teach you a lesson? It happened to me on a recent Sunday morning, when I was uncharacteristically wide-eyed at 5 o’clock.
I slipped downstairs, knowing my family would sleep for another three hours before beginning the weekly, pre-church bathroom battle. (The only male in my household of four, I try to clear out of the way early on Sundays. Dads everywhere are nodding in agreement.)
The summer morning in North Carolina was unseasonably cool, so I grabbed my Bible and headed for the screened-in back porch to enjoy some quiet time with God. I didn’t know till I got there, but there wasn’t enough light to read by yet. Besides, as I soon learned, God had a different lesson planned–one that had nothing to do with reading a few verses.
I sat silently for some time, serenaded by birds who were signaling the first signs of daylight. I also prayed, seeking the Father’s wisdom in some personal struggles I had endured. That’s when the lesson started.
Without warning, thunder rumbled in the distance, causing the birds to cease their singing. Moments later, a quick downpour could be heard making its way across our small subdivision. Lightning cracked! Thunder boomed! Dark clouds swirled. And a sheet of rain visibly marched toward me from my neighbor’s yard.
I stood and prepared to go inside, but something in my spirit stopped me. I’m not claiming to have heard an audible voice, but everything in me was saying, “Stand still. . . . Watch and listen.”
Suddenly, the overgrown maple tree in my backyard started swaying in a southerly direction. The shifting direction of the wind seemed to sweep away the rain as well. In a matter of seconds, calmness reigned and ushered in the dawn. Playful chirping soon filled the air again.
That’s when I realized it. I can’t prove it, but I don’t think the birds ever stopped their singing. I couldn’t hear them as the storm was nearing because my ears were tuned to the rain, thunder, and lightning.
Lord, help me not to focus on the problems in my life or the noise they create. Help me instead to be still and trust in you. I want to watch you work in my life. Teach me to listen to the reminders of your continual care.
How about you? Has God ever used nature – his creation – to get your attention?
