A few weeks ago it rained for three solid days. Where I live this amounted to over eight inches of water pounding roads, roofs and and the lupines in the back garden. One purple majesty spike was struck down by the pelting.
The Androscoggin overflowed it’s banks and a family down the street needed rescuing from their flooded home. Children taken away by boat.
The road had disappeared.
No way in. No way out.
That’s how it is sometimes. You just have to stay put and wait.
Even when everything around you is rushing past, threatening to push the familiar aside. Or drown it.
I need a navigator in times like these. Someone who knows the way through. Who sees that I am afraid and isn’t put off by it.
A head-turning spirit.
When I give in to it my head is turned and I am no longer looking where I need to be looking. At a Savior. A Rescuer.
Fear doesn’t let me rest in the waiting. It leads me to believe that it will churn and pound and never recede.
But I have learned there is a Navigator who is for me. A Navigator who knows the way of the raging river.
He sees the road underneath the spill over and He leads me beside still waters.
He holds a sword against fear and the clouds part and I can see my way through again.
He is the way. Jesus, my navigator.