“Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”
Mark 4:38
This week was definitely one for the books. Inclement weather, busted pipes, displeased employees, delayed prayers and questionable leadership left me lost and distraught despite seven days full of blessings that also appeared throughout the frenzy and in the wake. While most of these infractions were out of my control, the one concerning leadership is certainly not, and I’ve spent a considerable amount of time stewing over what happened and what could have been done differently. Even through a superlative high snow event and the vibrant atmosphere created by the laughter of a six-year-old watching it fall on the other side of the window, life still managed to throw a few curveballs leaving me doubting the foundation of the next rock in the river and several feet short of a similar apex.
But for reasons I cannot explain, God’s consistency did not waver. As I stare seven years of vineyard management in the face, I remain speechless again as God continues to be so good in His provision no matter the level of executive stability I hold guiding those under my authority, and no matter how many days I fail to leave the burden of it on the front porch when I get home. At this stage of the game, I have to sound like a broken record during my requests of supplication. My attire must resemble more of what is observed on a doubting Thomas rather than the splendor on a found prodigal. The number of times a storm is upon me, should not surprise the audience. However, the number of times I question Who it is that is actually asleep in the bow, should leave the same group flabbergasted.
Despite an uneducated logic in the matter, reminders of slavery’s splintered yoke flood the yard with today’s snow melt as promises of God’s sustenance continue to surround my feet and fill my barns. It is in these moments that I understand with complete clarity how much my Jesus loves me, forgives me and reaches for me both above and under the waterline.
