Squalls

At the moment, the sky is blue and the sun is out. From inside my comfortable living room, it looks like a nice day. But five minutes ago, the sky darkened and snowflakes flurried down, driven in waves by the arctic winds sweeping in from the north. 

Life is like this. Squalls. We’re humming along under blue skies, our lives fringed with minor distractions or anxieties. Then, suddenly, the sky darkens and we shiver in the cold north wind while icy snow stings our faces and melts into our clothing. Those minor distractions – or one or two of them – have suddenly exploded into major worries which draw all our waking thoughts into a maze of conjecture. We try to strategise, to make contingency plans in case something or other happens. 

It’s exhausting and pointless. 

Paul advises the Philippians, a city in modern-day Greece, not to worry about anything, but to give God thanks for everything and then tell him what we – or those we love – need. And the promise of God is that when we do that, he gives us peace. Peace that goes way beyond common sense in whatever situation we are in. Peace that makes no sense really, but which drives out fear.

My experience over decades of being a Christian has proven this to be true. Being a weak human being, though, I often need to re-learn truths I already know. 

Squalls will come. The sky will cloud. The arctic wind will drive the snow and the landscape will look bleak. But the Lord is with us. He is near. He guides our paths through these squally times, and then the sun comes out again. 

Praise God that he never leaves us alone, but always walks with us.