Promises, Promises

Promises, promises. Lord, that is what we say when we mean the opposite. The sarcastic voice reveals promises not kept. So about four days ago–I had to go back and reread the whole thing–You said You were signing a Permission Slip for me to begin to form a relationship with another wild fox family. So I have to start by saying both Thank You and I’m sorry. Sorry because deep inside I doubted. I doubted I was really hearing You. I doubted, not that You could, but that You would, and for me. I guess this is a human struggle. It is my struggle sometimes, and more than sometimes, lately. Anyway, that was on April 16, thatYou said that. The very next day someone sent me a message about a fox den. And I finally got the chance to go check it out. I was almost holding my breath, driving. And there they were. Baby foxes, doing what baby foxes do. I felt something deep inside just shift, like a sliding door moving aside, sliding open, setting me free, letting the air in, letting me out. I checked again at dusk. Still there! So again. I am sorry and Thank You. What a gift. I am actually–despite all these words–almost speechless. You said Permission. And here they are. Within days. 

What were field trips for?

Enrichment I would say. At least in my school years. We went to art galleries, we went to historic sites, we went to museums. The idea was to augment the classroom book learning with experiencing at some level what it was we were studying.

What else? What else did you just remember?

I had this flashback to middle school and the Science Club. The field trips to the lake bed, to the fossil deposit, to astronomy night, where for the first time I looked through a powerful telescope at the stars. That was amazing.

And where are you going?

In half an hour I meet up with other local photographers and we are going out, in the middle of the night, to photograph the Milky Way! Star shine! 

You see? Permission! A permission slip from your packet. You have permission to go outside, in the middle of the night, and photograph the starry sky.

Thank You, Lord. And God, I am sorry if I doubted You.

You didn’t doubt Me–you doubted yourself, your hearing. Because your longing was so great, you found it easy to imagine perhaps this was all your imagination. One of the reasons we started with foxes is precisely because your longing is so great. I long to meet you at your point of longing. And I long to show you just how connected we are, so you trust that connection more and more. This is one more example, one more experience, one more “faith comes by hearing” you can live out in experience.

Thank You again, God. So much joy. And tonight, when I went, I had a timeframe. I needed them to come out by a certain time. I couldn’t stay all evening. And one minute, literally, one minute before time was up, out they came! Thank You.