It is monsoon season in the high desert.
That means that storms can blow up literally in 5 minutes - first, we usually have the warning of distant thunder, flashes of lightning here and there, and, if we are fortunate enough, we get rain.
Most often, we get verga, which is rain that evaporates before it reaches the ground. It seems to be a gray veil that trails beneath the clouds.
But every now and then, the virga touches down and we get a drop.
Not a sissy bit of drizzle, I am talking a DROP. Then another DROP. Pretty soon, there is no dry spot between the DROPs and the wind whips in - I have seen it strong enough to blow flying birds backwards over the rooftops - and literally within 5 minutes the water is so deep on the roads that cars flood, and the water reaches to the tops of the hubcaps.
We call that "a flash-flood" here. They. Are. Dangerous.
Within a few minutes the roads have turned into raging rivers and cars begin to slide sideways, the inhabitants trapped in a moving object that is out of control and colliding with other moving objects, seemingly without warning. Once, we left the house with dry roads and blue skies and within a mile the rain had begun to fall and turned into a deluge that obscured our vision and we could feel the current pushing against us. Happily, we escaped without damage, tho we passed collision sites as we carefully, ever-so-slowly picked out way through.
Others were not so fortunate.
Because rain is rare in the desert (which, of course, is why it is desert!) the ground becomes hard as stone. So when the rain does fall, the ground can't absorb it, and the flash-flood occurs. The cities prepare for this event by creating drainage ditches - called "arroyos" - that empty into one another, the same as natural creeks and rivers do, and what begins as dry concrete becomes 5 foot wide raging rivers of water that sweep away huge boulders (and anything else) in their way.
And in this city, the arroyos that have an overpass - providing a morsel of shade in our 99 9/10% of the time dry as a bone over 100+ degrees average summer temperatures - become home to many homeless folk. The waters rise so quickly that every summer some are swept away and drown. They try to help each other reach safety - in the process losing what little they have accumulated as possessions.
And sometimes kids think the waters would be fun to surf in (I kid you not) or even just to swim in. And every year there are PSAs warning people to not try to drive through moving water, and yet every year someone will decide they can handle it, it doesn't look that bad, and surprise surprise every year it *is* that bad and their car is swept away. So every year, some policeman/fireman/good samaritan will have to risk their innocent life trying to save the person who watched the PSAs over and over and *still* decide it doesn't apply to them.
Why do we do this?
We figure we are the exception to the rule and go merrily on to destruction.
This happens also when we look at God's rules - we try to bend/stretch/excuse our way and head straight for destruction until God in His infinite patience and mercy pulls us out of the destruction line and straightens us up a bit (sometimes a lot) and puts us back in the "to glory" line. And I know He erases the skids and turn-arounds and black heel marks where He had the scruff of my neck and pulled (hard) to keep me from falling over the edge coming up just around the bend.
The last hospitalization I had, the pain was so bad that I was reduced to moaning for 18+ hours (I thought I was screaming but family assures me I was only moaning.)
I thought of Paul and his thorn, and how Paul ever after rejoiced in his infirmities. I told God I really really needed to see His "strength made perfect" in my present infirmity - And I was honestly infirm, helpless before this onslaught of pain.
Now, I don't know about you, but when I read that part about Paul's thorn, I always thought God *did* something to ease the thorn or whatever his thing was. I thought He eased it, or decreased it or *something* to make it bearable.
But, just like Paul, God did nothing - nothing but reassure us we were in His hands, and He would get us through this with His power,
Oh, and power can't be seen.
So His strength is made perfect in weakness.
And weakness can't be seen either. At least not by human eyes. So, like Job said, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."
Shortly thereafter, within an hour, give or take, a nurse called a palliative care doctor and she took care of the pain.
Would I have lasted much longer? I am sure I would have, according to God's will. His present choice was to keep me around for awhile, and for that while, His strength carried me.
No, the pain didn't immediately decrease. No I didn't "feel" stronger (I was actually complaining, as a matter of fact blush) I felt that I couldn't bear it any longer and finally kept saying. "Just let me die".
I am not a stoic example of a Christian. I am a wuss. When the pain finally went away, I savored the absence. There were other complications, but none that even vaguely approached that level of pain.
And the still, small voice said, "Was My strength sufficient for you?"
Ummmmm, yeah. (Said as I hung my head.)
But it leaves me in awe, Wondering how Paul did it. In an age where relief from pain was non-existent How? Paul took his eyes off of the pain and put them on God. I couldn't tear mine away from the pain. And yet Paul and Silas were imprisoned and in stocks after having their backs ripped open with a whip, ***singing Psalms*** They were physically unable to even shoo a fly away from their bleeding backs. Obedient to what the Holy Spirit laid upon their hearts. Amazing enough for the jailer to also be in awe - and wonder that they didn't seize the opportunity to run from the jail when the doors miraculously opened. The jailer knew that he would be tortured and ultimately killed if he let any prisoners go free - he was preparing to kill himself. But Paul cared enough about the man who imprisoned them to call out, "Don't harm yourself, we are all here!"
In awe.
