Month: January 2018

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An Ark for Me

IMG_2816Driving along narrow country roads has never been my cup of tea. I prefer the wide vistas of Arizona to the narrow country roads of the east. But here I was. My job had called me to Kentucky and I was left with a free day, my plane not leaving until evening.  This was my chance to visit the much talked about Ark Encounter, a replica of the biblical Ark, built with the exact dimensions given in God’s instructions to Noah.

Rising early, I ate the rather artificial hotel breakfast — Were they real eggs? Probably not—packed my bags, and headed out for an adventure.  The trip was to take an hour and a half. I typed the address, 1 Ark Encounter Drive, into my phone, and started on my way. The drive seemed simple enough. The first hour was straight driving on the freeway; easy going with a smattering of rain.  I listened to the Kentucky radio station and hummed along.

And then, the British voice on my navigation system directed me to turn off the main road onto a lovely little two-laned highway…..for 15 miles.  The thin country road meandered through the Kentucky boondocks with steep hills, pastured cows, and as many twists and turns as it takes to make a stranger downright scared.  Where was I going? Would I end up in the proverbial ‘holler’?  I remembered a Reader’s Digest article of a traveler in Iceland who ended up miles from his planned destination because of his know-it-all GPS. My heart beat a little faster, but I talked myself back into a calmer state.  

As one does when one is driving down an unfamiliar road by one’s self, I began to think about life and the surprises it hands us.  Sometimes good things burst upon us and we are surrounded by joy.  Other life events leave us empty and hurting, not sure what to think, but knowing we are still called to follow the Instructor.   We start out with our grand scheme and somewhere along the way things happen and we wonder just where we are.  We would never grow in our relationship to our Savior without experiencing both blessing and burden. Yes, all of life is purely biblical, and even as I tossed up a quick prayer, I knew God was reminding me of this. 

On, I traveled, purposing that all was well and if I kept on I would surely find myself in the place I ended up!  My instructor (Oh why did I set that voice on the British accent? She has a way of making me feel a fool!) directed me to turn and turn again and I breathed a sigh of relief —- 1 Ark Encounter Drive.  

Yes, here it was.  I parked my rental car, slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my bag,and headed to the ticket booth. Stepping out of the shuttle, I  stood, amazed at the enormity of the Ark and all that happened in it. Despite the storm, Noah and his family and all of those many animals floated on to safety. 

Not all arks are made of wood. If we trust, we will one day top a hill and see our Ark.  It’s not a rainbow. It’s not a promise that all afflictions will vanish. It’s a safe place to ride out the storm.  It’s our Heavenly Father holding us tightly when we feel as if our world is falling apart.  It’s Elohim — The Strong and Faithful One. 

I stood on the second deck, surrounded by cages that would have rescued two of each kind. Looking up through the center of this massive lifeboat I could see  the open holes protected by the high roof, skylights of a sort. It seemed I looked straight up to heaven and I thought of my Savior, my Ark, who carries me safely through calm waters and raging storms, always knowing, ever present.

Driving back to catch my plane and wing my way to hearth, home, and husband, my heart overflowed.  It was appropriate that the heavens opened and I drove through  a torrent of rain as I traveled back over that tiny country road.  I hummed an old hymn to myself…The Lord’s our rock in Him we hide….a shelter in the time of storm….

Let the storms rage on. I’ve found my safe place.  I’m safe in The Ark.

 

Lessons from Lambs

“Baa! Baa!” the weak cries of a newborn lamb floated up to our bedroom above the IMG_2706kitchen.  It was early morning and our father had returned from his chores with another lamb in need of warmth. Maybe the mother had twins and had neglected one, or maybe this little one was just too small to survive without the help of the shepherd. Whatever the reason, the sound of a lamb in the house always sent us scurrying to see.                                             

Our father had a soft heart for his sheep.  It was not unusual to find a lamb placed in a warming box in front of the open oven, its little body  shivering with cold, desperately absorbing the needed heat. The cushion of hay in the barn was little insulation against the bitter cold of the lambing season. Upstate New York is an inhospitable place for God’s creatures, great and small, in the month of March.                                                                                                       

  My sister and I had a deal. The white lambs were hers, the black lambs mine. We loved to feed them with the glass bottles and large black nipples our father purchased at the feed store. We learned the importance of  warm milk replacer, mixed carefully and fed at the appropriate times. We delighted in holding the bottle firmly while the little lambs pushed so hard we sometimes thought we would not be able to keep the bottle in our grasp.  We snuggled our lambs closely when, after filling their bellies, they were ready to sleep, wrapped in our arms. We were God’s helpers and we couldn’t be happier.                     

Watching our father care for his sheep taught us many things. He rose early in the morning to feed them and no matter how long the day, they must be fed at night.  Soon after birth, rubber bands were placed on their tails to dock them, which helped them to stay cleaner and improved their health. When spring came, the new lambs and the ewes were sent out to pasture, often escaping the fence in ingenious ways. This was an ongoing frustration for my father. We still remember the day he picked up a full grown sheep and put it over his knee for a good spanking! He was a patient shepherd, but even the best of sheep profits from correction.                                                                                               

The cold winters of New York are far away now, replaced by the warmth of the desert. My sister and I live different lives, far from each other, sending pictures or messages to keep in touch. But we will never be far from the blessed memories of  newborn lambs lovingly placed in the arms of little girls by a loving shepherd.

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. Isaiah 40:11