Faith for the Dimly Lit Road

Well now, bless the paint on my ol’ red barn door, friend! You’ve plum just stepped up on this ol’ front porch like a welcome breeze driftin’ right on through a Mesquite thicket. Sit yourself down a lil’ ol’ moment. I have been ponderin’ how those two disciples on the road to Emmaus plum walked side by side with Jesus and never even recognized Him at all. Luke 24:16 says they “were kept from recognizing him.” Now that there’ll make a person scratch his head like a puzzled lil’ ol’ possum sittin’ on a fence rail lookin’ around.

Why would God hide Himself? Sometimes the Lord teaches us lessons that plum grow best in the dark, the way mushrooms sprout under a shady oak tree. Faith that don’t git to relyin’ on sight becomes faith that sho’-nuff’ stands real strong when storms roll in. Jesus wanted those disciples to be wrestlin’ with Scripture before their eyes were ever opened. Isaiah 45:15 says, “Truly you are a God who has been hiding himself.” That there means hiddenness ain’t punishment. It is downright preparation.

There are seasons when God feels mighty quiet. You pray, and you hear nothing. You seek and don’t find somethin’ right away. You walk your road feelin’ lonelier than a lil’ ol’ stray calf wanderin’ through the pasture. But hidden don’t mean absent. Sometimes God lets us walk blindly so that when He finally reveals Himself, the recognition hits our hearts with the warmth of a sunrise spillin’ across a cold valley early in the mornin’.

Psalm 27:14 says, “Wait for the Lord. Be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Friend, that there plum means waiting ain’t ever wasted. It’s plum holy ground. The disciples’ hearts burned when Jesus finally opened their eyes. The unveiling was sweeter because of the waitin’.

Father, thank You for walkin’ with us even when we cannot see You. Thank You for teachin’ us to trust Your presence in the quiet places. Strengthen our hearts as we wait for Your timing. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Ok then, friend, before you leave off this porch, you gotta be lettin’ this here truth git to settlin’ in you like evenin’ light settlin’ over a real still pond. God’s hiddenness ain’t ever  abandonment. It’s the slow, steady work of a lovin’ Father shapin’ your faith the way a mighty river shapes a stone. So, you’ve gotta keep right on walkin’, keep right on trustin’, and keep right on expectin’ that the moment of recognition will sho’-nuff’ come, bright and sure, just when your heart needs it most.

With joy,

Gwen