July 8, 2015
I remember the moment clearly. The moment that changed my life.
It was years ago at a retreat with a passionate group of God-loving college students from the campus church.
Unlike them, my passion was wobbly.
Deep down, I wasn’t convinced.
How could I be passionate about something I could not see?
During the lunch break, I wandered down a woodland trail through an oak grove. Beside the trail an enormous tree had fallen, its massive roots reaching high, up towards the sky.
It was the perfect spot to sit and contemplate the passion I did not feel.
Although unsure of my intended listener, leaning against those reaching roots with my legs extended along the trunk in front of me, I began to pray. . .
If only, I had a sign, I pleaded.
It started running.
Running, faster and faster, straight towards me.
Surely it sees me, I thought.
As paws skittered up my leg, grabbed onto my shirt, leaped off my nose, tugged at my hair, and finally vaulted to the roots behind me, I had no chance of escape.
Louder than thunder, God had spoken.
When faced with life’s challenges. . .
prayer is my greatest source of comfort.