White Elephant

Don drew open the bedroom curtains. I heard his sharp intake of breath and looked out.

A white elephant lay on its shoulder in the strawberry patch, dead legs stretched heavenwards. We’d been aware of the wild winds and the pounding rain the night before. Don had been into the attic with a tub to catch a persistent drip we heard slipping through a cracked slate on the roof. We’d unplugged computer, wifi, telephones, having been burned, literally, in previous years when thunder and lightning struck. We had taken precautions the night before.

But we’d forgotten the marquee. A tented shelter we use most summers when we have barbecues, usually to protect folk from the rains of a Scottish summer, but this year to provide some respite from the hot summer sun. Distracted by the other concerns, we’d forgotten it was still sitting, vulnerable, out in the wind and rain. We’d forgotten to anchor it to the ground with tent stakes. We thought it was secure. It looked secure. But it wasn’t.

Abide in me, Jesus advises. Sink your anchor deep into the love of God. Link your heart with his. Live in the shadow of his wings. Find shelter in the rock of ages. Tethered to God, no storms of life can tear away his protective, loving arms.

Storms hit us all. When the next one hits me, I will remember the sight of that upturned marquee in the garden, canvas impaled on one of the sturdy fence posts, reinforced apex split from the strain of a violent assault. Hollow, heavy steel poles reaching towards the skies, towering over us as we clambered through the strawberries releasing clips, unscrewing nuts and bolts. Everything about that marquee was sound, except its foundation. It sat precariously on the parched lawn, unanchored, ready to somersault into disaster when the strong winds rose.

It’s no good anchoring the marquee in the midst of high winds though. The stakes needed to be hammered in before the storm hit. Day by day, living in the presence of the Lord, reading his word, praising and worshipping, I am pounding in those stakes. I want to be ready.

God's Love Never Fails

The fog has clamped round our house like a damp towel. Our nearest neighbour is invisible, lost in the cold white mist. It’s isolating and unpleasant, reminding me of nightmares of the past where I was lost and alone in a thick fog, fearful of what lurked beyond my view.

I am about to venture forth, however, as Dusty, who hesitates to exercise in stair-rod rain, is unperturbed about the fog. She seems to trust that what was there yesterday is still there today. She doesn’t seem bothered about whether or not she can see to the end of the path. Just as long as she can see the next step, smell the next enticing scent. One foot in front of the other. 

One step at a time. 

That’s all God asks of me. Take the next step. Don’t be anxious about seeing the entire path and where it leads. Don’t fear what you can’t see. Just stay close and keep walking, one step at a time. 

God’s love never fails. If he calls me onto a path, he equips me to follow him all the way. He will never leave me, nor abandon me. He will never give up on me. His love never fails.

So I’m off, secure in his promise and excited to see what he has for me today.