Faith | Is something about to ‘drop’? Run to the Father
It was July, and even with the summer sun set, it was still boiling hot in our little house.
For most of our growing up years, our family didn’t have air conditioning. My brother Jack and I, sleeping in the same bedroom, lay in our beds sweating—sometimes with damp washcloths on our faces. Even after the sun went down, the air was dead and heavy, with nothing stirring except the mosquitoes slipping in and out through the hole in the screen.
With sleep out of reach, Jack and I had been chattering away until my dad’s big voice boomed across the hallway to “shut up and go to sleep.”
He didn’t have to repeat himself or ask if we agreed with his decision. So we lay there, staring up into the darkness, sweltering in the heat.
And then ... WHAM!
This wasn’t a usual night sound. It wasn’t a thud, or even a boom. It was more like a cannon—shockingly loud and coming out of nowhere. It scared us beyond words.
Our response wasn’t coordinated, nor did we discuss a plan of action.
In a leap that defied physics, Jack and I instantly and simultaneously leaped our ten-and eight-year-old bodies from a completely prone position and—perfectly synced and timed—hit the bedroom floor right at our doorway. Then with only one, perhaps two, leaps through the darkness, we both dove into the middle of our parents’ bed, waking them with a massive jolt.
After several pronouncements from both parents, Jack and I explained our unexpected entry into Dad and Mom’s bed—and the loud, shocking explosion that had deployed us.
Dad hit the lights, and all four of us headed (tentatively) toward the bedroom. What we saw made the folks both laugh out loud.
Jack and I shared a six-drawer, solid-wood chest of drawers. One of us (my memory fails me on this point) had left the top drawer hanging almost completely out into space.
Somehow, perfectly timed after we were told to shut up and go to sleep, the old chest of drawers decided to release its grip on the top drawer—dropping it a few feet to the hardwood floor.
Yes, the mystery was solved. But what Jack and I had experienced was extremely loud, completely scary, and came out of the unknown.
It feels a bit like our world right now.
In the last few years, most folks have had little rest from the heat of anger and divisiveness; the spiritual evil and darkness from high places that has enveloped the planet, and the unceasingly loud, otherworldly shouts of fear blaring from our media.
Doesn’t it feel like it just “came out of nowhere, ”shocking us all?
Not really.
There is a simple lesson here for those who have ears to hear, and heart to learn from the trustworthy words of Scripture.
As humans, we are all in the “same room,” so to speak. It may vary, but in some ways, we are all feeling the heat of these days.
Some of us fidget but can’t sleep. We are somewhere between uncomfortable and at our wits end as a people, and as a nation. The darkness feels palpable and breathtaking, with no relief in sight.
Unknown to us, something is about to drop (it always does), and we don’t know what it is or when it will happen.
The darkness has compelled a lot of God’s sons and daughters to retreat in the shadowlands and sweat it out. On their own, and often alone.
I really don’t believe the answer is complicated. Don’t overthink it, and please don’t under pray it.
As followers of Jesus—believers, called-out-ones, Christians—stick together in the unity of the faith. Stick together in prayer and fellowship and study, and when unknown, loud noises or voices clamber and hammer in the night, run to the Father.
And please do it together.
Rev. Micah Smith is president and founder of Global Gateway Network globalgatewaynetwork.org with offices in Richland. Questions and comments should be directed to editor Lucy Luginbill in care of the Tri-City Herald newsroom, 4253 W. 24th Ave., Kennewick, WA 99338. Or email lluginbill@tricityherald.com.
