Walking under an umbrella is one of my favorite things!! There is a sweet, soft security in knowing I am covered–safe from the wetness.
Tom and I shared an umbrella walk on our first date over 50 years ago! (I know you do not believe it has been that long!) And ever since then, well, walking in the rain just adds memory to special memories!
Many in Vienna and Munich had no use for the umbrella; they preferred to run quickly from train to tram and shake the drops over the rest of us. Seemed to be the “cool” thing to do–run through the rain and then dry off somewhere in a coffee shop! But we used our umbrellas–oh, how many we lost or left on the trains!
One morning last week I grabbed our large umbrella and stepped out into the rain. I smiled— and snuggled under the canopy.
Above me, I could watch the rain bounce off the transparent sections ; I could see “out”–the trees and bushes were visible. I was feeling all cozy and protected.
Then I realized that I could not see a thing if I twirled the umbrella and looked through the black parts of the shield over me. The rain still pounded–I could not see it, but I knew it was there. If I only looked through the dark section, I could not even see where I was going.
A quiet realization invaded my thoughts —God is my umbrella—protecting, shielding me when I can “see” life before me–when I, in confidence, sense His presence over me.
I giggle. I want to dance in the rain.
And then, I “see” blackness. It is not so simple, not so easy when I can’t see. When I, like David in the Psalms, cry, “I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail–looking for my God.” (69: 3) What do I do when I cannot “feel” His umbrella of love covering me?
I remembered the babies asleep in their strollers in Europe. It did not matter if it were a light rain or a downpour in Munich or Vienna —they were satisfied with the clear plastic protection over them. They were safe and dry–content enough to sleep in the rain. Other times, the tent over them was dark–to protect them from distractions–or to shield them from the hot sun. They still slept.
David was in a cave, fleeing from Saul when he said, “I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.” Psalm 57: 1.
Trusting– well, trying to trust—under the Umbrella,
(Some of you may have seen an unfinished entry of last week–sent accidentally before edit and completion. And I wasn’t sure if I should send it–did not know if any would understand-hence, the deletion. It had to do with “where is God when He is quiet. Then I picked up a book and began reading last week–Ken Gire’s, The North Face of God, and now I know many will know and have been there. I will resend that one soon.)