Tag Archives: trials

Crop Circles In My Corn Field and Fires In My Life

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basket-roses-straight-sharpWell, I think I know how they make crop circles because I have the makings of one in my corn ‘field’.

The other afternoon (Sunday, to be exact), I was watering and muttering about the firecrackers still going off, when I started smelling smoke.  To make a long story short, a fire was blazing in the woods behind us.  It was the crackling noise of the brush and trees (that were rapidly being consumed in its flames) that were making the popping sounds that I was hearing.  Ken pointed out to me where the flames were coming toward us through the trees and shortly thereafter, we were asked to evacuate.  We took our dog, Ben’s dog, and the cat and left.  That evening we returned to an ashen covered home with no damage whatsoever.

The field and woods behind us, however, could make no such claim.  They had been burned to almost nothing, leaving naked and charred trees scattered between us and Hwy 5.  What once masked the noise of the interstate, with its overgrown bushes and lush green trees, had quickly disappeared.  What now remained, lay smoldering on the earth’s floor.

Later that evening, Ken and I witnessed the most spectacular sunset, made possible by the haze and smoke from the blaze just hours before.  It amazes me how God can take something so destructive and bring beauty from it.

The next morning I went for a walk down the path where the fire had come and was stopped by the firefighters who waited with hoses bursting with water and helicopters hovering overhead with bags of wet relief (hence the crop circles in my corn ‘field’).  I looked out toward the highway, across the blackened soil, viewing something absolutely breathtaking.  Trees had been seared with the flames from the night before and the ground was scorched and bare but so beautiful.  There was no color except blackened earth and smoldering white ash.

I stood there thinking how clean everything looked.  The day before when Ken and I had walked by, the ground was covered with masses of bushes, flowering weeds and treetops filled with green leaves that rustled in the wind.  I enjoyed the scenery.  However, what was there was now gone and the scenery was somehow almost even more beautiful.

I thought about how I have sometimes felt like the scene before me – scorched and consumed by life’s trials.  It has been at those times, when the junk has been burned out of my life and I have been laid bare and purified before the Lord, that He has been able to grow me and use me most.  When all the brush has been cleared away and the ground has been made sterile, then He is able to work.

When I’ve allowed things to become overgrown and can’t see through the woods because of the brush in my life, sometimes it has taken a fire to clean things out of my life.  Sometimes that’s the only way God can get our attention to tell us He wants to do something big in our lives but the ground isn’t ready for planting.  Sometimes it takes a trial – a fiery trial.  And sometimes after the heat dies down and the flames are out, we can see the beauty in what seemed so hard and burned so fiercely.  We can see how much we grew because of it.  And though often extremely painful, sometimes we are even able to see how necessary it really was.

This third I will bring into the fire. I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The LORD is our God.’  -Zechariah 13:9

Lord, I admit that I don’t want to go through trials that you deem necessary, but the ones you have allowed in my life have been for my good and I know it beyond a doubt.  Help me to glean wisdom from each fire you allow to burn and may I be refined, knowing that you indeed are my God and are perfecting me through each one.  May it be You who receives glory through the cleansing.

His,

Sherri

Life Lessons Using A Rubber Duck

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Well, it’s time for an update of some sort, don’tcha think? Time goes by sooooooooo fast and other days, seems so slow. Sounds like a song.

I met a new PD’er online. Now there’s three of us who are addicted to online PD conference chats at 3 in the morning because the RLS is keeping us up (and alert) or the meds to stop the RLS is keeping us up (and alert). Which do you prefer? Survey says…

Well, we are trying to sell our home. Not easy these days, you know. I was struggling with all of the issues surrounding this big thing in my life and for this entry, I wanted to share what I learned. This comes from another blog I do called Planting Gardens – www.plantinggardens.blogspot.com. Here it is:

LIFE LESSONS WITH A DUCK
by Sherri Woodbridge

I have come to my mom and dad’s, to spend some time with them. I think I am also trying to spend some time getting my emotions, feelings, thoughts and feelings under control. I cannot stop crying when I think of my kids and having to leave them, not knowing the next time when I will see them again.

Is that what is known as the empty nest syndrome? Is there some way to get those feathery fellows to fly home? Is this part of ‘letting go’? I suppose it is, but surely I do not have to like it. I am most certain Paul did not like going to jail and yet, he praised God while he was there.

There is a song that goes something like this:

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be His name

He gives and takes away

My heart will truly say…

Lord, blessed be your name.

Every blessing you pour out,

I’ll turn back to praise

And when the darkness closes in,

Still I will say,

Blessed be your name.

He gave me my family and in a sense has chosen to take most of them away by moving them to other parts of the country. In this darkness that seems to be enveloping me, I can choose to cower to it or I can choose to praise Him in spite of it. Will my heart truly say, Lord, blessed be your name?

I am awake and the rest of those in the house are sleeping. I have opened the shades to watch the water rush by in the river before me. It is running fast and the river is full.

A duck is floating down the river. He floats alone, seeming quite content and to be enjoying his trip. As the river carries him downstream, he does not fight it. Then he appears to slow down and drift to the side, sitting for about ten minutes as he preens himself.

For some odd reason, I feel anxious for him as he wades to the side – alone. Where is his family? Where are his friends? Why is no one else coming? Doesn’t he know that if he keeps going and doesn’t go back he’ll most likely drown at the falls?

A thousand thoughts crowd my mind, as I panic for this duck. Then I notice – he doesn’t appear worried at all. He is still quite content, over there on the side by himself.

I can be like that duck, if I choose. I can allow God to take me downstream, through rushing waters, knowing not where the river will take me and enjoy the ride – alone. I would prefer to be traveling down that river with all of my family around me, knowing they are there if I need them – being there if they need me. But ultimately? All I really need is to trust God and lean on Him alone. All I really need is… Him. He will take me safely and securely, allowing me to drift off to the side every now and then to find renewed strength and rest.

I continue to watch that duck and as he starts back out for another jaunt, he only goes about ten feet on his next venture before trying to go back upstream – back to where he came from. As I watch him, he struggles in his fight, going in the opposite direction from where the river is trying to take him.

It is then that I realize – that is what I am doing. I am fighting God. I want to go back upstream to where I came from, to how it used to be – Sunday dinners with everyone there, game nights, making homemade ice cream, watching Boo – seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. Yet, for some reason, God has taken me down this river of life. It
is a river that twists and turns and even so, while not having the slightest idea of where it is running to, unaware of what is around the bend, oblivious of where I am going to end up, I hear Him whisper, Will you trust Me?

Will I? Will I drift to the side and rest a while, allowing God to be the one to fill the hole in my heart? Will I sit there with Him, letting Him be the one who dries my tears as He pushes away the darkness that surrounds me? Will I realize that He is the river that takes me to unknown places? Will I quit fighting Him by trying to swim back upstream to what used to be?
Will I turn to Him, with an aching heart and still say, Blessed be Your name?

In surrender, I pull up my webbed feet that have become strong from fighting and trying to go my way, and I allow Him to bring me to His side and rest.

Yes. I will trust Him. After all, He is all I need.

Oh Lord, forgive me. This morning I prayed for new eyes to see you in my life and you gave me a new picture by using, of all things, a duck. Help me to be like that duck – content with just You – needing only You. Help me to float down this river of life with You, knowing You will take care of me, pushing away the darkness that closes in. When I am tired and my heart aches, pull me to the side and hide me under Your wings, just as a mother bird protects her young. Then, when it is time to float again, let me not look back and want to go back upstream, fighting You in the process but to look ahead, even if I don’t know where You are taking me. I want to trust You. No matter where You take me or how I may get there, at each turn, I want to look to You and say, blessed be Your name.

I would encourage you that if you’re struggling with anything today, there is a God who cares and is waiting to take you under His wings and hold you close. All you have to do is… let Him.

Fact or Feeling?

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I used to wear my heart on my sleeve for all to see… and comment on. Not that I wanted to. Who am I kidding? I still wear my heart on my sleeve for all to see… and comment on. Not that I want to.

It is a curse, one might say, to be so vulnerable. It is a curse in the sense that you want to keep the feelings that are so deeply felt, hidden away so no one can see. Really, so they can’t mock or tease or condemn. At least it feels that way sometimes.

It is a curse in the sense that you want to keep those feelings that are so deeply felt, hidden so you don’t have to deal with them. Feelings of loss. Feelings of isolation. Feelings of inadequacy. Feelings you have when you have what others don’t. And you want to keep them hidden because they don’t, they won’t, they can’t understand.

Mulitple Schlerosis.

Lupus.

Pancreatic Cancer.

Alzheimers.

Breast Cancer.

Alzheimers.

Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

Prostate Cancer.

Crone’s Disease.

Unless you’ve got it, or a disease like it, you won’t, you don’t, you can’t get it. You can’t understand. Not that you don’t want to, but you just can’t. Not fully, anyhow.

You can sympathize, you can pity, you can encourage and support, but you can’t understand. And so, some try to empathize, rationalize, apologize and humorize the situation. But sometimes, it’s not funny, there’s no rational reason one awakes day after day to face their foe in the mirror, nor is it anyone’s fault that they or a loved one suffers with a disease.

I guess I’ve felt a bit frustrated of late, feeling as if some people in my life ‘don’t get it’. I get to the point that I don’t want to even mention PD because it is viewed as an excuse for pain, stiffness, memory loss, or any other ailment I might be experiencing at the time. Sometimes it seems that the fact of my disease, being ever present in my body, has disappeared from sight to the outer world. Yet, I know it is there as it hides within and can definitely be felt moment by moment.

As recipients of a disease or illness, we try when our bodies and our energy levels permit, to do what we are able – garden, write, work on cars, play games, socialize… We have a new vision for the short time we are allotted here on earth and strive to make the most of it. There are some days we feel we could climb a mountain ( a little one) and there are other days when we know we can’t even walk to the base of a hill. It may even hurt to glance upward to look into the sky. These are the days when sometimes others watch us (me) and I wonder if they think PD can’t be so bad. Look at her! She’s digging up flowers! No one with a disability would have that much energy or strength.

To be fair, I often don’t, just as others I know with PD don’t. We push ourselves in the tasks we yearn to function in and finish because it feels good to be used, to be useful, to work, to move. Yes, we push even in the pain because, at least for me, the pain says I’m alive, I can still do it – today. And yes, it also cautions me to take it a little easier, but not so easy that all that is left is to sit and watch life instead of participate in it.

I may wish to hide what’s going on inside, but I’ve never been good at it. I wear a feeling of loss at times, because the fact is, I’ve lost something – control. And I wear a feeling of isolation – a feeling of being alone in the fight. I wear inadequacy by feeling I can’t do, can’t offer what I used to. Everything’s just a little harder to accomplish. But as hard as things may be at times by dealing with something others can’t understand, people mean well. They intentions are honorable and they are trying to deal with this intruder from a different angle: it’s taken a part of the one they love or it’s trying to.

So I guess I’m thankful that sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve because sometimes I don’t want to give this monster any more attention and talk about it. But sometimes I need to and that’s when someone asks how it’s going and if my answer is a little less than accurate, they glance at my heart laying there bare for all to see and re-examine my answer.

You sure? they ask after receiving a less than convincing ‘Okay’ response.

Fine. You’ve got me. I’ve got PD and no, I’m not okay. Today I just really need a friend.

**Earaches, Heartaches, and Doorways

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single-flower-for-posts2

When my son was born, until the age of almost three, he had constant ear infections. After the third or fourth time, it became easier to identify that another was coming on and I could get him to the doctor before it became too painful. Most of the time.

I do recall one experience of having that motherly instinct of knowing he was getting another and taking me in. His regular doctor was out and another doctor saw him. He assured me after checking him briefly that there was no cause for worry. I wanted to assure him that I was most certain he was wrong.

At twelve o’clock that night, my son woke up screaming, his ear filled with pain. I did everything I could to help him. I gave him Tylenol. I held him. I rocked him. I cried with him. He screamed in pain until morning.

A few weeks ago, I had an ear infection. It began with a gradual achiness followed by intense pain and pressure for about five days, at which time I felt it was going to burst and to be quite honest, I almost wanted it to just to relieve the pain and the pressure.

No one ever gave me Tylenol. No one held or rocked me or saw me crying in the dark when I could not sleep because the pain was so intense, but then, they did not know because I was not crying out in agony.

This is what I learned…

When my son, at the age of two, was in pain, he writhed in discomfort and screamed for release from the grip of his ear infection. Oh how I wanted to comfort him and hold him tight so that he knew he was not alone. I rocked him to try to soothe him and as I held him closely, I cried with him, wanting badly to be able to take his pain away.

When I was in pain a few weeks ago, for the most part, I kept it inside. No one else needed to hear how much it really hurt. No one could rock me and comfort me and it made me think… Isn’t that what God wants us to do with him? Yet, we try to keep the pain in our lives and the heartache we experience hidden deep inside, when all the while He is waiting for us to cry out to Him for help.

I was chatting online last night with a friend and he was saying that one of his friends was not going to be able to do an event that they had planned for this year. He said the other person had been having some recent struggles and had to cancel. Then he withdrew and ‘disappeared’ (not literally) from his network of friends. My friend made a comment that went something like this: “I’ve told him there’s still a spot for him on the team, but he’s got to walk through the door.”

I liked that. We sit and cry but we do not run through the door screaming to God for relief. We do not writhe in pain when it hurts so bad inside that we think we cannot tolerate it for another minute. A foreclosure on the only home you have known. A divorce. An illness. The loss of a loved one. You lose your job. The list goes on.

When a child cries out in pain, the parent responds immediately. When he whimpers and sits off to the side, if the parent does notice, s/he probably knows it is not a life-threatening issue or the child would be screaming as loud as he was able. The child that is crying out for mercy gets mommy or daddy by their side – immediately.

I am not saying that if we talk to God politely, He is going to ignore us, but there is something to be said about crying out to Him. Sometimes that is the only thing we can do. Sometimes that is the best thing to do. To become like a child and let Him hold you and rock you. Let Him soothe you and wipe the tears as He wraps you safely in His arms.

He is waiting to love you. It is up to you to walk through the door.

**Bittersweet Lessons

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It began with “Welcome”, posted on a website. A health website in an area for those with Parkinson’s Disease or someone caring for a person with Parkinson’s Disease. The ‘Welcome’ has turned into lifelong friendships that have developed through laughter, heartache and commonality… we all have PD.

Two days ago I met a friend who I have known for over two years and just had the blessing of meeting personally. A friend who also has Parkinson’s disease. She met me at the airport in her famous, ‘da Coat’, overcoat and the friendship has grown by leaps and bounds since that moment.

I suppose so far the highlight has been today, after an exhausting (due to lack of sleep) evening at her women’s retreat and getting to know her friends. I have been immensely blessed by their company and hospitality. After cleaning up after the gathering, we went back to her house (this morning) to work on our PD site, Parkinson’s Journey. Afterward, she took me to a friend’s home, who also had a friend visiting from out of town. These two women also have PD.

This has been my first experience meeting anyone else with PD. It gave me a reality check in two major areas. First, realistically confronting the facts of this disease and second, the blessings of this disease.

First, the confrontation. After meeting Judy (‘da coat owner) in person and watching her, the realization of where this monster (PD) is headed hit me in the face (not literally of course, but it actually felt like it could have happened). After meeting Peggy (TNPeg to some out there) and seeing where she has traveled on her PD journey (she recently underwent a clinical trial for PD that involved having five holes drilled into her head), once again, I was hit in the face. Hard. This monster has no mercy. It has no preference of attack. It does not care who it hits. Young children, young mothers, young fathers, spry grandfathers, first time grandmothers, elderly parents – it doesn’t play favorites. It will attack them all and leave them to fend for themselves in what could be a useless shell. It knocks them to the floor. It will laugh when they cannot voluntarily move their feet. It will mock when others stare as you flail about without control.

But it will not win.

In the pain, the struggle, and the heartache, there is a blessing. The blessing of joy.

It will show up in the darkest hours. It will shine through the things we can still do. Like painting a mural on the side of a barn. It will radiate gratitude in knowing that five out of ten fingers still work pretty good. It will weep with joy on the days that are ‘pretty good’, because there are days that are pretty bad. The monster (PD) may appear for a battle, but it will not win the war when hope and joy stand as its defense.

The facts are, PD doesn’t get better. It can be controlled to a point, but it won’t get better. Though it won’t go away (unless God wills it), the sorrow over its presence in our lives can, if we look at the to God and the blessings in the trials and tribulations throughout this journey.

It is hard. Many times blessings come through hardship. They can sometimes definitely be easier to see when we in the midst of a hardship because we are elated when something good finally seems to happen in the middle of a hard time. The blessings can almost tend to stand out. However, they can be hard to see if we get caught up in pain and sorrow and lose hope.

This week I have watched these women of faith, women who are filled with hope, strive to maintain some sense of ‘normalness’ in their lives and hold on to some measure of control of their bodies. This week I realized, that is what I also try to do. I guess I call it pressing on.

I have wept in silence for these women. Some not only deal with their own disease (PD), face to face, day after day, but some are carrying loads that press in on every direction, often leaving anyone else to give in instead of pressing on. One woman is grieving over her mother’s battle with reoccuring cancer and the war with chemotherapy treatments. She also runs errands for her father in-law who has just been admitted to a nursing home for health problems.

Where does her hope come from? The kind of hope that allows her to stand when she has no strength left? The kind of hope that allows her to smile in the face of despair? A hope that perseveres in the midst of the trials and tribulations of this life? Her hope comes from her Savior. It seems so appropriate that the One who saved us, saves us continually from much.

Paul said, ”

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. …Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
(Philippians 1:2-12)

Joy can be found in the midst of trials – if we believe there is a purpose in those trials. What if the only purpose was just to develop perseverance? Would that be enough reason to press on? Would it be enough reason to know that you were going through a hard time merely so that God could teach you to not give up?

That is easy to ask but tough when considering the response. However, if you consider the rewards of learning to persevere, it may be easier to answer.

Perseverance produces maturity. Completeness. Character. Not only does that staying power produce the kind of character that pleases God – a maturity and completeness in Him – but what a promise we are given if we persevere for His sake, to receive the crown of life! Yet, Paul says this comes when we persevere under trials. The kinds of trials and test that God allows in our lives. Tests that can feel as if they will claim the best of us. Storms in our lives that feel as if we will drown in the smashing waves and be thrown against the rocks, left to wash ashore limp and lifeless. Trials that claim ownership of our strength and hope and joy and strive to leave us empty. Tribulations that trap us into a dark crevice which close in on us, inch by inch of every passing day and chide us into believing the sun will never shine again.

But God made a promise to those who love Him. The promise that these things in life that hurt, that often make no sense, would make us better. Even if they don’t make us well.

That is the blessing of our trials – our diseases, our losses and sufferings, betrayals, and more. The blessing of not only receiving the crown of life, but knowing that we were allowed those trials because we are loved by a merciful God. Knowing that He has a confidence in us that we cannot even begin to fathom in our small minds.

He knows what we are able to endure. He only gives us what we can handle. He will give nothing less, as it won’t produce what He desires for us to become and He will give nothing more, as He is a loving and wise Father towards His children. He allows just enough to become stronger in Him.

If you are facing a trial that seems as if it will destroy every ounce of strength you have, every drop of joy that remains in your spirit and every spec of hope you thought you possessed, take heart. God is using it for your good. He is using it to bring about abundant blessings in your life. It is being used to produce perseverance. He wants you to develop into His mature and complete son or daughter whom He loves beyond any measure that you could ever imagine. He has not left you nor has He forsaken you.

Jesus said, “In this world you will have tribulations, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). He has already gone before us and knows the path we are on. He has walked it Himself. He persevered to the bitter end. He will be your strength when you are too weak to stand. In the midst of the storms, He will be your lifeboat.

He has already won the battle. All you have to do is to trust Him. Persevere through the trials for when you have reached the end, mature and complete, He will be standing ready to place a crown upon your head.

sherri

**Pockets of Hope

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Pockets of Hope

Pockets of Hope

A few weeks ago I was flying on an airplane from here to there. The weather was bad and visibility was nil. You could look out the window and see nothing but a layer of dark, gray clouds. However, every once in a while there was a little hole, a pocket in which to view the earth below. Under that dark canopy were homes, cars bustling down empty roads, people who were hurting, rejoicing, with and without hope.

It made me think of being on the other side of that cloud cover. Often I have stood under dark, gray clouds and looked up to see a little pocket of sunshine coming through the sky. Sometimes the rays have been so amazing I often have felt Christ could come right then through that ray of sunshine. I have stood there, looking upward on those gray days and felt the warmth stream down through those little pockets of sunshine and shine upon my face. Something happens inside of me. My hope is restored.

I have focused on my surroundings so often, that it is hard to lift my head. However, I have a mighty God who sits enthroned up there where the sun shines. He looks down below and sees and knows our state of mind and the condition of our spirits. That is why He gives us little pockets of hope, rays of sunshine that shine down upon us in our darkest moments. They encourage us to take a deep breath and focus above and know that He is still God and He is still in control. The little pockets of sunshine encourage us to keep going.

It’s not hard to look around and see chaos. We search within and find despair. God looks around and sees a plan. He searches within us and finds a wounded and weary spirit. We look up and see clouds that hide a clear view of who God is. We look up and fear the storms that are coming. He looks past and sees the rainbow He’s about to stretch across the sky. We see the now – He sees tomorrow.

It can be difficult to find the hope in the hard times. It can be hard to find sunshine in the storms. But, as winds of broken dreams and the rains of helplessness beat against us and wear us down, that’s when He does it.

He reaches down and gently parts the gray skies, sending a brilliant ray of light that spreads over the chaos around us. A ray of light that is captivating – luring even – as we stand there and soak up the warmth He is pouring down upon us.

He gives us pockets of hope. Amazing hope that builds up our faltering faith. A faith that gives us the strength to press on through the storms of this life.

That is my ministry of writing – to show you that there are pockets of hope for those who are weary, for those who are hurting. To offer a little something that might make you smile – laugh even – as you journey through life. A little story for a little child, a tribute to a grand grandmother, a hug on a page for a friend.

God has given me countless little pockets of hope on the darkest of days and I have learned to look for them in the hard times. They are there. I have seen them. The trick is to look for the light and not to focus on the dark clouds hanging overhead.

Lift your face from despair and look up – up to Him – and He will give you little pockets of hope – hope that will break through on even the darkest of days.

That’s a promise.

**The Promise of A Rainbow

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God always keeps His promises

God always keeps His promises

Today I saw a rainbow.

I am utterly fascinated by a rainbow. The translucent colors. The arc. The brilliance. Most of all, the promise of a rainbow.

There was a time when God was not keen over the condition of the world. In fact, it was at its worst at that point. Immorality, I imagine, was at its peak. Idolatry was no doubt running rampant. Theft, murder, dishonesty, and more were most likely at an all time high. But there was one little man who God saw through heaven’s telescope that was different. I imagine, a quiet man who kept to his own but was not afraid to stand for truth and righteousness. A man whom God found favor with and therefore, became chosen to do a unique task. He was chosen to build an ark.

So he did. Somehow in his utmost faith, I imagine somewhere, on some day as he pounded stakes into holed to hold things together, something told him he was crazy. And yet he pounded and believed, had unfaltering faith and hung onto hope. Crazy or not, he had heard a Voice tell Him to do something incredible. It wasn’t a question of ‘will you’. It wasn’t an option of ‘are you interested’. It was a command to just do it. ‘Build an ark’. Instructions followed and Noah began the overwhelming and daunting task of building the biggest boat known to mankind up to that day.

And so he obeyed and built an ark. A big cruise liner for every species of animal known to mankind. They would not have to forage for food for the next 40 plus days. It would be brought to them on a silver platter (okay, so maybe it was a gopher wood platter) as they laid back and took it easy for the next two months or so.

And while Noah and his family catered to their traveling zoo, it rained and it poured and it didn’t stop for forty days and forty nights.

I imagine it was a bittersweet time. Noah undoubtedly had closed the doors to the ark to the ridicule and mockery of the world, but he also closed the doors to people who were also his friends. Sailing on his vessel most likely gave him a lot of time to think of who was left behind to drown in a sea of regret. Friends, extended family members. I am certain if Noah was who God thought he was, he had compassion for these people, even if they weren’t the cream of the crop.

I’m sure Mrs. Noah had the same thoughts. She probably cried for her fellow quilting bee partners. She probably wept for her aunts and uncles, nieces, nephews. There would be no more family reunions, women’s weekly Bible studies, or gatherings of teaching the younger women how to prepare for marriage. Those days were gone and new days were to come.

Bittersweet.

And so it rained and it rained and it rained and after forty long days, it quit. Can you imagine what Noah and his family thought at that moment? God promised it would rain for forty days and forty nights. They were probably gathered around the hay bale eating breakfast and stopped chewing and looked at each other in wonderment. It had stopped. The rain had stopped. The pitter-patter of raindrops that pelted non-stop against their vessel for the last forty days had stopped. Just like that.

I cannot imagine what must have gone through their minds, but I’m sure excitement was in the midst, somewhere. They probably jumped up and ran to the poop deck. It was true. The rain had stopped and the clouds were dissipating as quickly as they had gathered weeds before. God had kept his promise. Not only had it poured buckets upon this little family’s life, but after forty days, it had stopped just as amazingly as it had started.

In the excitement, I’m sure Noah must have said, “Oh, wait – the dove – I’ve got to get the dove.” And so the dove was sent out and returned empty handed. No land. Repeating the process every day or so, it finally returned one day with an olive branch in it’s mouth. More excitement. Land was breaking forth the tides of the storm that had held them bound in the traveling zoo. Soon they would be grounded and able to exit and loose the animals back onto the earth.

In all the activity that was taking place, something else happened. Something magnificent. Something never evidenced before. The Noah family, standing on deck – a parrot perched on Shem’s shoulder, a monkey sitting on Noah’s, a snake coiled around Ham’s arm – stood wide-eyed with their mouths open. Never had they seen anything so beautiful before. (Obvious paraphrasing going on…)

There in front of them, spread across the entire sky draped an arc of brilliant colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, purple, blue. They were awestruck. Before them, stretched from one end of the earth to the other was a magnificent rainbow.

And God said, “I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.”

When God approached Noah in his vineyard many months prior to this moment, He made a promise that He was going to send rain to flood the earth. He promised to save Noah and his family by way of an ark. He promised it would rain forty days and nights. There was a promise in that promise that it would not last forever. And now, Noah and his family stood gazing upon that rainbow and God made another promise. To never do that again. He would never send another flood to destroy the earth.

Noah could believe God. Noah’s faith was strong. He had watched God make promises in the past and he had watched God keep each one. He knew that God would keep this promise.

Today I saw a rainbow with brilliant color so red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. It was absolutely beautiful. And when I saw it, I smiled. There were dark clouds with windows of blue sky. And then there was the rainbow.

I remembered what the promise of the rainbow was and how God has kept his promise. And each time I see a rainbow I remember how God keeps all of his promises. And it makes me smile. And it renews my hope and I am encouraged and reminded that even on the darkest of days, God will be there because God always keeps His promises.

That’s the promise of a rainbow.