Well, folks, I sure had a bit of a scare the other night. Several days ago, when the temperature was still running a bit low, I’d worked outside most of the day. Late afternoon, I’d gotten a headache. Put my tools away and spent the evening vegetating on the couch, alternating between reports on the coronavirus and Forensic Files reruns. You know, nothing like a few hours of tranquility and serenity to prep me for a good night’s sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up. The headache was worse and I was sweating like a field hand in August. My arms, chest and legs were soaked. “Aw, man! Here we go…”
I racked and stacked every little wrinkle of my brain trying to figure out who, what, where, when, how. “Who will I need to call?” Alternating fear and guilt, I lay there, working through such preliminary thoughts.
Then, something occurred to me, something enlightening, something soothing.
It wasn’t some supernatural peace, some divine message of hope and presence. It wasn’t a deep reassurance of faith, though in retrospect it seems that something along those lines would have been in order. No, friends and neighbors, it was a simple and direct realization that reached through the murky twists of my mental meanderings. I remembered that right before I went to sleep on that chilly evening, I’d turned on the electric blanket. And cranked it up a few notches.
Ten minutes later, no more sweat. No more worries. Well, I did still have the headache but it was gone by morning.
Sometimes the Lord rescues us with a strong and mighty hand. Sometimes he sends two boats and a helicopter. I think maybe sometimes he just waits a little while, giving us time enough to open our eyes a bit and finally perceive that we may have created our own little personal pseudo crisis.
I can easily think that he was watching me that night and when the light bulb finally came on, chuckled softly and murmured, “Well, duh!”