Prelude to a Pit: Just Another Day

It's a Thursday night.  I can't breathe.

Lord, where are You?

~~~

The sun rose like it always had.  Autumn proudly adorned herself in her burnt sienna splendor.  Leaves were shouting their last hurrah in robust reds and golds before falling to their winter slumber.  Pumpkins guarded the porches of each neighbor with would-be sinister smirks.  The wind had turned cold, inviting sweaters to awaken from their summer hideouts.

It was just another day.  Nothing peculiar.

I didn't even notice the whiff of change in the air.  The foreshadowing of a dawning darkness clear across the horizon.

A storm was brewing.  But the rumbles of thunder were so faint that I could have easily mistaken them for the crawl of dining chair legs across the hardwood floor.  The raindrops were so few and far between that a blink could disguise their daintiness.

But the clouds were quickly approaching the little life I'd come to know and love.

The Lord was ushering in a test.  The stage was set.  The lights dimmed, the audience hushed.  And the spotlight hit me in front and center stage.

Unbeknownst to me, I was the star of the play, and I didn't know the lines.  Or the plot.

The Lord never waits until we're "ready" to lead us down a road of suffering and sacrifice.  We're thrust in, sink or swim.

And we kick and scream and fight saying, "Not now! I'm not ready!"  But really, would we ever be?  Is there ever an adequate time to say, "Here, Lord, I give You everything You've ever blessed me with.  It's okay.  It didn't belong to me anyway.  Bless You.  Praise You."

No, we're never prepared.  And yet--shouldn't we always be prepared?

This crazy thing called the Christian life is full of surprises, both welcome and unwelcome.  The only constant is Christ.  He is trustworthy, faithful, and good, even when the storm is fast approaching.

And we are to arm ourselves daily--hourly--with the full armor of God, so that every God-ordained bump in the road is not an opportunity to run off in the ditch but to say, "Praise You, Father, thank You for showing me that my motor of faith still works and that Your goodness flows deeper than any pitfall."

But this day.  This ordinary non-peculiar day, I wasn't ready.  I wasn't armed.

And with the crack of a lightning bolt, my ordinary became chaos.

And I was about to find out if I was who I'd said I was.  Who I'd promised I'd be.

Be armed and on the watch, friends.  Always.  

For today may be the ordinary day that changes everything.

**Tune in tomorrow at 7 pm for day 2 of Prelude to a Pit: Chaos**