Monday, June 24, 2013

The Fly

I had so many people on my mind as I walked outside to sit in the morning's rising sun. I wasn't sure HE had anything for me as my footsteps were heavy and deliberate. Normally I feel a pull, an urge to go out and receive but this morning, having few burdens of my own, I had the weight of others on my heart. I stepped onto the old porch and took seat. You could see my wet footprints across the wooden planks and they were all pointing towards me.

I heard the buzz of a fly that seemed to remain in endless flight and I watched him, wondering if he would ever get tired. About that time, he landed on the railing and I watched as he hurriedly walked across, only to soon take flight again.

I thought of yesterday's service as the preacher stood at the front of the church. One of the long-time members, a respected elder of the church, the man from the front pew that reaches down with his right hand to feel the cross engraved underneath him with the palm of his hand...went up to the front. He spoke of Moses. He told of the story in Exodus 17 when Moses stood at the top of the hill with the elders, with his hands uplifted. Our pastor raised his hands and he did his best to keep them in the air but the unrehearsed story of our own church elder showed us how soon, we will tire. He said that Aaron and Hur walked up to Moses and each took an arm, and helped keep them raised. I watched my preacher stand with one hand in the air held up by the church elder and one hand down at his side with no one to help hold it up when he had grown tired. The elder asked who among us would be willing to hold up his other hand and one by one faces fell at the altar. I was frozen at the sight and my heart grew at the sight of so many praying right at that very moment. The tissue I had couldn't hold my tears so I let them run free. Walking up from the left side of this little country church, I saw her...

The wife of the elder walked up to the front with confidence in her backbone. She stepped past the sinners who prayed and she walked past her husband who held the preacher's hand high and she reached down with her gentle hand, placed it around the wrist of the pastor, and lifted his other arm into the air. She was the one. I can't tell you how many mountains she has stood upon in the past having battled cancer several times, along with other trials of life...but this day, she was the one with the strength. Tears rolled from the pastor's eyes and I could see the water Moses promised the people who were thirsty. It was the most beautiful sight, knowing that we have people in our little church that can grow tired, yet The Lord has supplied us with strength through others to keep going. I didn't know what HE had for me this morning. I'm thankful for the fly, who grew tired and rested his wings just at the right moment today, for me to be able to lift my arms in Praise this beautiful Monday morning!

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