Crossing

     I am blessed to live in railroad country.  Someday I hope to have a couple of little boys who will sneak out of bed to record horn blasts on their tape recorders just like their dad did when he was six, and a little girl who counts the boxcars like her grandma.  Of course the noble locomotives have their detractions-- last week I got stuck at a crossing and after waiting ten minutes for a stopped train while I became tardier and tardier for my first day with a new art class, I drove ten minutes around and found it had only just cleared by the time I reached the other side of the tracks.

     Last night I was dashing home between chunks of my day and just as I came up to the line that seems always between me and my front door, the lights began to flash and the bell began to ding.  To my delight the bell proved also to be a school bell because the Lord walked into the classroom and lessons commenced.

     At His instigation my first thought was not, "Agh!" but rather "Lord, could it be a fast train?  I'd really like a fast train," followed by the uncharacteristic ponderment, "I wonder if in a moment I'll be thanking Him for a fast train or thanking Him for a slow one that He knows is best?"  And suddenly I was really excited to see which it would be because I knew He knew!  Just as in a heart-stopping pan-out in a movie, I saw all of everything He manages moment to moment.  And I was over-joyed because my dad knew what was next and had it all under control, and He was excited to show me!

     But that wasn't the lesson.  A second later a large, slow yellow engine came trundling around the bend.  "Okay," I thought, "guess I get to thank Him for a slow train." But then my eyes became confused because the bend gave way to another yellow engine and then... nothing.  At a crossing where I'd never seen it happen before, the leaders were returning home without their entourage-- a slow train and a fast train!

     And that was the lesson: just like in every episode of Stargate or Doctor Who we've ever seen, there is always a third option.  With the Lord in charge it is never Either Destroy the Asteroid With Your Own Ship OR Humanity Is Destroyed.  It's not even Either Get This Job OR Your Family Will Starve.  The Asgard show up, or someone makes a last-minute jump from a parallel universe and saves the day without you having to commit harikari.  Dale lost his job last month.  We'd been looking for a different job for eight months.  We don't have unemployment, and I don't pay quite half the bills.  His first day officially unemployed he had work.  And the second day too.  Then he was randomly offered a part-time minimum-wage job driving a florist's delivery van.  His first day was Valentine's Day.  (Irony all 'round.)

     We have no idea what's around the bend-- it could be a fast train, or it could be a slow train, or it could be option four, five, six, seven, or one-hundred and ninety-three.  Our Dad knows, and the joke's on us if we limit Him to an either/or.