“I have taken care of you from your birth. Even when your hair turns gray, I will take care of you.” –Isaiah 46:4
I searched scripture to find a verse that demonstrates God’s personal attention and I found this verse in Isaiah. And while a lifetime of care is welcomed, sometimes we long for God to shield us, removing our fears and suffering. For Americans living in towns recently decimated by extreme weather, this scripture leaves us wondering what God’s care looks like, at times.
My question was answered by residents who described the unceasing care of their neighbors and the compassionate efforts of volunteers and aid workers. Many associated their own strength from their relationship with God whom they know as loving and compassionate.
When I was a child, I often made regular summertime trips to the Midwest with my brother and parents to visit relatives. We drove our car from the West Coast through the desert southwest to Oklahoma. During each trip I watched God Almighty in action. I saw His depth in the Grand Canyon, His mystery in Carlsbad Caverns, His purity in the White Sands of New Mexico and His power in thunderstorms that frequently overtook our car.
Countless times I recall watching threatening thunderclouds roll across the skies in the direction we were headed. We would look for lightning and watch for the edge of the storm.
As much as we loved the excitement associated with the storms, they occasionally scared us. I recall thunder so loud I would cover my ears. At times, my dad would pull to the side of the highway as our wipers could not keep up with the torrents of rain. I also recall hopping up into the front seat to sit on the confident lap of my dad, where I felt safe from any storm.
My most vivid lesson in the ways of God Almighty came the night my brother and I were put to bed upstairs at my great aunt’s house in Marlow, Okla. While my parents visited with adult family members downstairs, Brian and I contented ourselves by watching a huge tree sway outside the bedroom window. As the minutes passed, sleep evaded us while a summer storm brewed outside. Soon the branches began slapping against the window and alarming sounds grew closer. Torrents of rain pelted the roof, the room lit up with the brightest light I had ever seen, and the crack of thunder overhead sent us for the only shelter we could find: the light sheet covering our legs. In seconds after hearing our pathetic wailing, we could hear Dad lunging up the stairs and see him spring through the door to encircle us both in his protective arms.
The face of God can be almighty, but He is never just powerful. He will, at the scariest of moments, provide ways for us to experience His tender and protective, loving and compassionate nature. He will stay God the loving Father all the while. The storm will pass. The sun will shine, once again.
