Wednesdays aren’t typically the highlight of anyone’s week. They’re pretty ordinary – a stepping stone towards Friday.
I hear that, but this Wednesday is a little different for me. The difference is, I can’t see Friday coming for all the clouds leading up to it.
A couple of weeks ago, my dad’s heart lost its normal rhythm. He knew something was up because he worked in a cardiac intensive care unit for several years. So off to the cardiologist we went to discover that, yes, his heart is out of rhythm in a way that will be corrected by electrically resetting it. This means, they’ll stop it for a brief second and restart it. They do these things every day, sometimes multiple times per day. They are typically hugely successful. Dad has even assisted other cardiologists in doing this very procedure.
The thing is, all the stats and facts sounds a lot different coming into your ears as you sit in the chair receiving them from a clinician. It’s the humanity in us that hears the small percentage of risk louder than the higher percentage of success. Those same ears hear words like “stroke” and “embolism” a little louder than they hear “unlikely” and “routine”
Things were starting to get pretty cloudy.
Here we are, just under two weeks since talking to the nice cardiologist. Tomorrow is a Wednesday and the day that my strong dad who prays “even-if-He-doesn’t” prayers and talks with more assurance of grace than anyone I know, the one who takes care of everyone else….will be the patient.
In the days leading up to this appointment, before I even told my dad how I was really feeling (completely and totally freaked, for the record), he told me he was praying for me.
He said he was praying knowing that I see him as a rock in our family. He was praying that the Lord would hide me in the cleft of the rock, that His hand would be over me and that I could see His glory passing by even in my fear. Dad referenced Exodus 33 and said that God let Moses see His back. “You know, sometimes when we can’t see His face it’s because He’s up ahead of us, going before us.”
Dad’s right. The Lord has seen our Wednesday. He’s been there for a long, long while. Whatever happens won’t be any surprise to what He has written for us.
In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
:: Psalm 139:16 ::
A few days later, I was talking with Dad after church and he said things might seem cloudy right now, and that’s alright. He knows his daughter loves her a good schedule and a plan. I know the plan for Wednesday, but just like everything else, there’s no way of knowing how the plan will go. The more something matters to me, the more a cloudy plan bothers me. So he says, “Clouds aren’t all bad. In the word, we see the Lord being most present when it’s cloudy. And where there is a cloud, there is a Mercy Seat.”
So many times, the presence of God was made manifest as a cloud. When things were looking bleak for His people, He was there. His character shows He does not like to be far
from them from us!
Growing up in church, I’ve heard the line, “We’ve got to interpret the cloudy by the clear.” about 100 times and it’s what comes to mind now. I may not know how the plan will go or what our Wednesday will be like, but I know the great, unchangeable, immortal, Invisible, I AM.
He is, and He will be tomorrow, and the next day and the next day….
For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy.:: G. K. Chesterton ::
When my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.:: Psalm 61:2 ::