There's a moment We all come to In our own time and Our own space. Where all that we've done We can undo If our heart's In the right place. On a prayer, in a song I hear your voice and It keeps me hanging on. Raining down Against the wind I'm reaching out till We reach the circle's end. When you come Back to me again And again I see My yesterday's in front of me. Unfolding like a mystery. You're changing all that is And used to be. -Garth Brooks-
Tonight I read Genesis and Mathew, but I'm not going to talk about them. I'm going to tell you a story, I like those better anyway. Its a story that is forever etched in my memory and one God often brings me back to. Today I was reminded in song, its always subtle, but the image takes forever to leave me.
I should preface this by telling you that over the lasts five years I've more often than not found myself in a spiritual wasteland. Often times God's silence is deafening. Its been so quiet and so lonely that I welcome even the slightest change. Today, for the the first time in a while, I could almost smell the sweet aroma of a distant storm. I know its coming and I bet its violent. I'm so excited. I'm not afraid of these storms because it was in a very literal storm that I first experienced what it must feel like to wrestle the Lion.
My family had a couple of Wave Runners the summer after I graduate High School and I spent every weekend on the lake. I had a great tan. I had a friend that went out with me most of the time, and that weekend was no different. My buddy and I put in at a small cove near where 140 crosses the Tennessee river. That day we headed north to Knoxville. It had been overcast when we put in and they were calling for rain, but we were 18 and the end of summer was quickly approaching. We had gotten about 20 minutes from the ramp when it starting pouring. We turned around to head back, but the storm beat us there. The sky was black, the water dark, and at 50mph the rain stung like needles. I was terrified.
Had the ride back to the ramp been 5 minutes shorter the story would probably end there, but it wasn't. About the time we passed under the bridge something in me began to change. I found my terror could longer hold back my laughter. Could I actually be enjoying this? Am I crazy? At that moment I looked over at my buddy to find that the only thing more evident than the fear in his eyes was the smile on his face. I couldn't hear it over the storm and the machines, but I knew he was laughing. As soon as he saw me look over he broke the wave runner free of the water and did the most beautiful 360 you'll ever see. I had to match it. We spent the next 4 hours on the lake in what at times was a pretty powerful thunderstorm. When it got really bad we would go under the bridge and climb up on the concrete supports to catch our breath and brag about the cool tricks we had done.
He and I are still very close friends and to me that remains one of the defining moments in our friendship and in my life. That day in the midst of the storm I found laughter, fellowship, and rest. When life gets hard, when the storm rolls in, I remember that day. I slow down, pause, and listen for the laughter.