Friday, May 8, 2015

road closures










Nothing can be as infuriating as taking a favorite road, and after a few miles find it has been closed.  Maybe it is construction, maybe an accident, but whatever it is it interrupts the flow of our ride, causing us to make alternate decisions, to change our course.  Sometimes we were on our way to meet someone, and we don’t want to be late or to make them worry.  Sometimes it is the ever present traffic guard with his sign, allowing traffic to proceed only one way, generally not yours. But mostly it is an inconvenience, and the first thing we do is grumble.  The worst words come from our mouths, and we look for blame in others.  If we are able to proceed after waiting, we see people on the other side just as impatient, hoping we didn’t look so rude.  Or when faced with turning back, more times than not see there was a sign warning us, that we chose to ignore, it couldn’t mean us, or we missed because we weren’t paying attention.  It is these seemingly inconvenient road closures that change our course, our direction, and often lead us to roads we never would have taken.  And find a better road because of it.  Life is like that too, the warning signs are there, yet we are too busy to look, to stupid to obey, or too proud thinking they are for everyone else but us.
One afternoon while chasing down ghost towns in the Sangre de Cristo we came upon a small valley with a beautiful river running through it.  Winding our way down, we came upon a Toyota pickup halfway across it, not moving.  In these pre-lifted days, you could see the water half way up the doors, and we stopped to offer help.  Seems he tried to get across despite the rushing water, and his wife’s insistence they didn’t try.  But he was stubborn, and they went for it, stalling half way across, and now he was stuck.  They had climbed out the windows, and we agreed to winch them out.  We gave him the line, and he waded out, secured it to the rear bumper, and soon he was out.  The water line on the side of the truck showed it to be about two feet deep.  But inside was the real story.  Looking in there were cassette tapes floating, his deck under water, and water just below the bottom of the seat.  Other various things that once found haven on his floor and console were floating too, and as he opened the door, they all ran out with the water.  Which put the crowning blow on his being bummed out.  We then lifted the hood, water had been up to the air cleaner, fortunately not in it, and after some repeated tries, it started, ran rough, and he picked up his stuff and turned around for home.  As we watched him leave with heavy disappointment of mood, we wondered should we try it,or turn back.  But a third suggestion had us go downstream a bit, maybe a half mile along the river in a meadow, and came across a shallow area, pretty enough we stopped to take pictures and eat, and then crossed , barely getting the truck wet.  Just a few minutes from where he sunk his truck was a safe crossing, he had ignored the obvious signs, and pride literally drove him into the drink.  An unusual sense of common had prevented us form the same fate that day...it could have been us.
It is important to remember it wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.  But in listening to God, he and his family, only his family were saved.  For 120 years this 600 year old man had labored on the ark, without power tools, but with the jeering of his neighbors making fun of him.  It had never rained, so why would you build an ark for protection?  Why would God have you do it?  What warning signs did he offer?  Yet Noah built the ark, built with direction from God, built to a standard that all sea going ships are built to today, making them the most stable.  I’m sure there were times he wanted to quit, to question his sanity, and maybe doubt God.  But he kept at it....and on his 720th birthday it started to rain.  Talk about raining on your party, but he found safety and salvation in the ark just as God promised, even down to what and how much to bring.  Not knowing how long he would be secured inside.  And God sent the animals two by two, notice male and female, a family, to continue making families after the flood.  Just like Noah and his sons did, for we are all descendants of Noah.  Floods are part of our family heritage, and so we should be prepared for them.  We have had centuries to look back, to trust God and to get to know him.  Yet so many times we are caught by surprise, claim we weren’t prepared when all the signs were there, and so was God.
Jesus died while we were yet sinners.  Important to note, as God was ready to save us long before we were even born.  Nothing we do surprises him, he is never caught off guard.  He warns us, guides us, and then forgives us, altering our course as we go, taking us down roads he chooses for us, avoiding floods and other dangers if we listen.  Sometimes taking us kicking and screaming where we need to go, and altering our route.  To us a detour, to him the way.
And Jesus is the way, and the way back.   His signs are there, his spirit is willing, and all it takes is us.  Our choice, sink or swim.  In my minds eye I can still see the cassettes floating in that Toyota, and they didn’t have to.  His bad decision helped us make a better one, see the signs are always there.  Before you wade too deep into uncharted waters today, ask God where he wants you to go.  Ask directions, then follow them.  It might be a rough road, but later you can thank him for the ride.  And not the flood.  Detours are God’s way of having us change direction and get back on his course.  Road closures prevent us from further danger.  We never know lies around the corner, a biker died last week coming around a corner where there was an accident with no warnings.  I’ll bet there was a sign of some sort,and ifnot visible, it may have been spiritual, the spirit warning of danger.  Remember that next time you stop and miss by just that much.  The importance of the spirit guiding.  Bring the umbrella of truth with you today, you never know when you will need it.  And remember, it wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.  Call it the parable of the floating cassettes...now do you get it?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com