Wednesday Wonder
February 24, 2010
This morning, in the pre-dawn darkness, I was awakened by lights flashing through my windows. They were the pulsating lights of an emergency vehicle, and as the remains of sleep vaporized I became aware of the low, grumbling hum of the diesel engines outside. It was a 911 call.
A quick check found that all our household’s inhabitants were fine, so on with the clothes and a coat because you can still see your breath. The fire engine and ambulance sat in procession, filling the end of our cul-de-sac, their multi-colored lights playing off the fronts of all the houses. As I walked toward the scene I looked about for the emergency responders, but there were none to be found. I looked in the cabs of their vehicles. I walked around the long fire truck, thinking someone might be standing on the far side, but no. The flashing hulks rested like unattended spacecrafts that chose my street for their landing. Every door of every house was closed. Do I just wait here?
In time a door opened and the gurney came down the sidewalk. She was stable, but the chest pains were enough to merit a ride to the emergency room. I walked up to one of the suited aliens, the lights reflecting off his helmeted face: “Welcome to earth. Do you come in peace?” Ok, that’s not what I said. “How is she? Is there anything we can do to help?” No, she will be fine. Go back into your dwelling, earthling.
Some things in life are anticipated. I’ve trained for the Olympics and am going there. It’s time to graduate after years of study. The baby finally arrived. These are the expected events and outcomes that we talk about over coffee. “So Billy is going where for college? Did Sue land that job?” But sandwiched in among all these anticipated moments are the ones that fly in by stealth.
The health emergency comes when everything seemed just fine. There is the accident. A calamity strikes. My dream turned out to be a nightmare. Some unearned blessing just dropped in my lap and I don’t know why.
The moment of testing often provides a singular opportunity for greatness, a moment so often thrust upon us without our consent. You never know what hides inside you until it is required. But when the siren calls you find out soon enough. It shouldn’t surprise us that most of our fears circle around a secret doubt that we will not be up to it.
These are the visitations in the night, the lights that awaken us through the window and send us reeling into unknown territory. And all we take into them are our wits, whatever experience we’ve gleaned through the years and more than a little faith.
That’s what we have most of the time, faith is, and it’s usually enough. When our resources are not adequate to the invasion of the unpredictable we often find ourselves surrounded by a cloud of kindness, those who do for us in the short haul what we cannot do for ourselves. Those moments of singular grace stick with us. There is the hand offered at just the right moment. And when we are attentive we even become aware of the deep surges of spirit and love that come from inside, from beyond us. We are upheld with an unseen power.
But for now it is out of the cold, back inside to the coffee pot. There is a day waiting to be lived and it has my name on it. Are you living it with us, O God?
