We got out of the house and went for a drive yesterday. It reminded me of Sunday afternoons when I was a child. With my parents, grandparents and two little brothers squeezed in the Oldsmobile (the youngest on Mom’s lap!) we headed for the countryside with no particular destination in mind. If the snow had melted, we headed west to the mountains. If not, Dad pointed the car south toward ranch country so Grandpa could see the fields and horses.
Yesterday, my husband and I headed toward the Steeples Range. Apparently, a lot of people had the same idea and since we were being careful to maintain a distance in this time of viral threat we took the road less travelled. After turning down Bull River Road we came to the base of Bull Mountain.
The snow is melting in the valley and the blandness of this season without winter whites and blues or summer greens or autumn golds feels like spending time with loved ones in moments when they are not dressed up to their best standards. But the beauty of the heights is still there.
This morning I read this:
The four corners of the earth were put in place by you.
You made the majestic mountains
that are still shouting their praises to your name.
Breathtaking and awesome is your power!
Astounding and unbelievable
is your might and strength when it goes on display!
Your glorious throne rests on a foundation
of righteousness and just verdicts.
Grace and truth are the attendants who go before you.
O Lord, how blessed are the people
who experience the shout of worship,
for they walk in the radiance of your presence.
We can do nothing but leap for joy all day long,
for we know who you are and what you do
(Psalm 89:12-16 TPT)
Today marks exactly seven years since the beginning of seeing a miracle. On this day my husband drove our son-in-love to the hospital with what he thought was the flu and a pulled hamstring. Within a few hours he was in surgery. That night doctors and nurses struggled to raise his blood pressure as he nearly flat-lined three times.
It was the beginning of a miracle, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like the spirit of death crashed our party wanting to steal, and kill, and destroy. (Real time blogs from that season start here.)
The thing is, if you want to see miracles you will find yourself in situations that call for them, because as much as we honour and appreciate the skills of highly trained medical people, even they acknowledged this disease was beyond their ability to stop.
We can read about God, debate about God, fight over our ideas about God, but we don’t know God until we walk through a storm with him. Not until we find ourselves in a position of being out of control despite our best efforts, can we begin to understand the majesty of God, who is greater than any impossible situation.
Paul, the great intellect and apostle wrote, “My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.” (1 Corinthians 2:4 NIV)
Editors advise writers to show, not tell. I can tell you who God is for me, but until you have actually experienced his kindness, goodness grace and no-nonsense justice it’s all a nice story.
Because I’ve seen the goodness of God I can say, “We can do nothing but leap for joy all day long, for we know who you are and what you do.”
If you find yourself in a place where you feel out of control and out of ideas, cry out to God. Let him show you who he is.
2 thoughts on “Show, Not Tell”
Thank you for sharing. My focus is firmly on God who shelters us in the midst of the storm.
He said he’d never leave. Sometimes he calms the storm and sometimes he is there with us in the middle of all of it. Either way, he’s there. Blessings on your day, Yvonne.