Assurance About What We Do Not See

Last night I headed to bed knowing that with a few inches of snow in the forecast, there was a solid chance I’d be waking up to (OMG AGAIN!?) a snow day. Sure enough, I woke around 5:30, grabbed my phone, and let social media confirm what I already assumed – no school. Rather than complain and worry about how I’d get through my to-do list, I handed the kids and the puppy over to my husband who was given the snowy day off.

There is something deeply therapeutic about hard, physical work, and with most of my neighbors still sleeping or hiding in their warm homes, I enjoyed the peaceful calm of the snowy morning. Apart from a brief visit with the neighbor’s beagle mix, I worked in solitude for 90 minutes, clearing the sidewalks, the cars, and then attacking the driveway. As I worked quickly to shovel across the top of the driveway, I remembered that earlier in the winter – admittedly more than once – I had been so intent on what I was doing that I had accidentally smacked my head into the light fixture between the garage doors. Even though I couldn’t see the light above my head with my eyes on the snow at my feet, I sensed that it was there and managed to avoid hurting myself.

A few hours later, frustrated by uncooperative technology and a to-do list that seemed to be fighting back, I picked up a dust cloth and cleaner and set out to clean my family room. Even the fireplace seemed to need a dusting, so I got down on my hands and knees, wiping down the facade, the hearth, the wood trim. Pleased with myself, I stood up quickly and smacked my head into the mantel.

I couldn’t see it. So I didn’t remember it was there.

I have little reminders of God’s love and protection placed strategically around my home. My office features a canvas reminding me of Philippians 4:13  – I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. My computer desktop starts a bit farther back in Philippians 4 with verses six and seven – Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. My daughter sometimes wears a bracelet that reminds us all to watch for God. I listen to Christian music throughout my day.

And yet, still, I found my eyes welling up with tears during worship Saturday night as I sang,

All condemned feel no shame at the sound of your great name.

Every fear has no place at the sound of your great name.

The enemy, he has to leave at the sound of your great name.

Somehow I had forgotten again that what I cannot see continues to exist as it always has. The Alpha and the Omega. The beginning and the end. The first and the last.

And I cannot help thinking that understanding this will allow me to finally, finally, stop walking into the same obstacles.