It has been a whirlwind summer. Literally, and not in an enjoyable way. That might be putting it mildly. It was more like a hurricane. On July 10th my dad died of a massive heart attack. The extended Hands family was amazing, and I was flooded with messages and emails of prayers and well wishes from literally all over the world. What a blessing! There were many I did not respond to, but I did read every single one - they were a light in those very dark days!
I remember at some point after my father's death, I was driving and I got into the traffic pattern behind a large truck. It was carrying Tru Moo if you're curious. It was really quite large, and it blocked any view of the traffic lights. I was unable to see anything in front of me! For the duration of the drive, I simply moved forward in faith. Trusting that the truck was obeying traffic laws and that I would also be obeying laws by following it. That I wouldn't run any lights, or get into any accidents because I couldn't see where I was going - I could only see the truck! I remember thinking at the time how that was the example of my life at that very moment. Dealing with grief and facing the unknown, I could not see the destination that lay ahead. I could only see the most immediate things at hand. My life was following the proverbial truck.
A few weeks following my father's death, I was taking care of a friend's chickens. They all stay in a coop and fenced in yard. All except for two hens. Somehow they were resourceful enough to find a way to jailbreak the fence. For the first half of my watch they were on their best behavior and staying cooped up with the other chickens, but later they became restless. One night I was walking to the chicken coop after dark, to make sure everyone was in and ready for bed. As I got closer I saw something odd on the grape arbor. When I was even closer, I realized it was two hens! They had escaped their safe environment to explore the unbeaten path, so to speak. I imagine they spent hours enjoying their freedom and foraging in the extensive backyard. But in the evening they went to the grape arbor to wait for me to return them to the coop with the others and give them a snack before bed. This routine went on for the rest of my watch. Every evening I would walk to the coop to make sure everyone was accounted for, and the two hens would be hiding together on the grape arbor waiting for me. One night I even initially walked past them and they began clucking and making a fuss as to get my attention. I thought they were foolish for getting out, but intelligent for coming back. We are so like those chickens though! We know what we are allowed to do, where we are allowed to go, and how we should be acting, but what lies on the other side of the fence seems so much better! And God is the ultimate, always patient care-taker. He is always there waiting for us to come back from our adventures, even when we've done things we shouldn't have or gone to places we shouldn't have been. What a blessing to know that!
