Windy as in difficult-to-stay-in-my-own-lane-while-driving-my-car-kind-of-windy.
While sitting in church today, I strained to keep my attention focused on the words of the sermon, but the wind continued to rattle the windows of my church. It rattled the cross that extends itself into the sky. It rattled the large brass cross that comes down over the alter.
As I strained to hear, I myself became rattled.
Will the roof cave in?
Will the cross topple?
Will the windows crack, the shingles rip off, the roof crater?
And before long, I was imagining the church where I have been since I was 7, standing no more.
How easy is it to be distracted by the winds that whip around us. Winds that are not born of the Holy Spirit, but rather winds that seek to taunt us with needless worries, endless speculations. Winds that seek to rock us off our foundations so that we are easily swept up by the world.
Have you ever felt whipped around by the wind? Have you ever gotten to the point where the battle against it is so hard and you are so tired that you consider just surrendering to it, allowing it to carry you this way or that?
I pondered these things while straining to hear that sermon and all the while, I hear the still small voice saying this:
Remember your foundation.
And I think of times that I nearly surrendered to the wind, throwing up my hands, my exhaustion, my will. Surrendering to those things that I thought would soothe, would numb, would help me forget.
But then, my Protector stepped in. And I remembered my foundation and I saw the safety of surrender to Him, though I knew it would not be something without pain or tears or struggle. But, I would be rooted. I would be found. I would not be aimless, flapping the winds, this way and that. No.
I would be in the safety of His wings, surrounded by His Wind, the world's noise quieting once again.
As we prayed the Prayers of the People, me in my pew, head bent down, heart opened, communing with God that which I laid in front of Him on behalf of myself, on behalf of those I love, I was oblivious to that scathing, cold wind. I was oblivious to the creaking, to the fear, to the howling that sparked worry in my heart.
It was only when I arose out of that prayer that my ears attuned to it once again. And so I learn not only to remember my foundation, but to pray without ceasing.
Are you caught in the windstorm? Have you ever been?
Also, would love for you to join us tomorrow for Soli Deo Gloria (link opens Monday evening and goes through Wednesday night).