because my Dad

My childhood grew on the edge of a small town nestled in Minnesota prairie. Prairie land makes for good farming. Mostly because it's flat as a pancake and clean-bald of trees. So we were quite proud of our backyard on Creamery Street: we had a HILL. Ok, a gentle slope. But still, it could be rolled down, slid down (with the aid of a gushing hose), sledded (sp?) down, and scrape-your-knee-clean-off-while-running-down to our hearts' content.

the mighty slope looking up towards the house

The best part was the shady woods and gurgling creek that hugged the bottom of the slope. Water enough to fill all my cracked pots and teacups, and flow into my 'rubbers' if I got too bold. Woods enough to conceal most of our doings from our parents and provide the framing for our forts. My fort consisted of several prize boards we'd hauled all the way from Mr. True's junkyard down the street. (Parents, don't assume. Get your kids tetanus shots.) Our forts were our dearest possessions. We spent hours building, renovating, moving, and rearranging them. We swept their dirt floors and entertained countless imaginary guests with considerable aplomb. 

One summer morning we throttled down our hill and tripped into our woods to find the forts completely demolished. Not just knocked over but cracked, smashed, hauled off...intentionally vandalized. We were broken. Hardly able to pick up the pieces and start again. And as we sat around our dinner table that evening, we detailed the damage for our parents. We've dug a pit if they come again from the front, but I'm not sure it's deep enough to stop 'em I gushed, breathless with drama. (fancy that)

Then it happened. From our dining room window, we saw hooded forms emerge from the dusk at the edge of our woods. You can only imagine the uproar that erupted from my siblings and I. It's them! They're back! What do we do? MY PRECIOUS BOARD!!!!! 

That's when he stood up. 

the view from our dining room table

We heard the scrape of his chair on the linoleum. Saw the thin, straight line of his mouth. Watched as he strode toward the side door...within moments we could just make out my Dad's tall form as it swept fast down our hill and disappeared into the woods. 

And you know what? I don't even remember what happened next. It didn't matter. My Dad had been stirred to action. He was bigger, stronger, and outrageously more wonderful than anyone who could be in those woods. Whatever went down in those shadows was going to be in our favor. An effective and thrilling display of his love. I straightened and stood tall: my shoulders held back and head held high as I kept one eye trained out the window.

Dad's got this. 
My Dad's going to win.
Because my Dad. 
...........................................

The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid.
The sorrows of hell compassed me about: the snares of death prevented me.
In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: 
He heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.

Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills moved and were shaken, because he was wroth. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it.

He bowed the heavens also, and came down: and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.

At the brightness that was before him his thick clouds passed, hail stones and coals of fire. The LORD also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave his voice...Yea, he sent out his arrows, and scattered them; and he shot out lightnings, and discomfited them. Then the channels of waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were discovered at thy rebuke, O LORD, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils.

He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of many waters. 
He delivered me from my strong enemy. (Ps. 18)
..........................................

We fight battles. We find ourselves at the center of desperate situations. We harbor crippling anxiety and secret grief. But friends, we need only cry out to the LORD.

God's got this.
Your God is going to win.
Because, your GOD.

Beth