Holding On or Letting Go

 I'm out on my patio again. The air is cool - 70 degrees F. and I don't smell smoke. It's there, but it's high and not sinking down in the heat yet.

Everything is quiet except man and his machines, mostly motorcycles. The only signs of life -  micro life, that is -  are a sow bug that's not moving and a busy spider-like creature.

A humming bird comes to our feeder, tastes what is offered and flies away. No wonder. The ants have found our feeder again. They cleverly climb the posts, cross the beam and go down the wire that the feeder hangs from. Then they clog the feeding holes, gorging themselves on free sugar-water. Bill decided to outsmart them by covering the wire with two-sided Scotch Tape, hoping for a result like tar paper or Sticky Paws, but it hasn't deterred them.

I look back at the sow bug and discover he's on his back kicking furiously with all his legs. I wonder how many legs he has. I also wonder if he can right himself.

I hear there's another storm heading up the California coast. It may have dry lightning like the last storm which ignited fires in our foothills and magnificent redwoods. It is yet to be seen how that will turn out. And now more?

My thoughts go to the story of Jesus calming the storm on the Sea of Galilee when his disciples woke him with their cries, "Master, don't you care that we are drowning?" Jesus told the storm, "Peace, be still," and the disciples marveled that he was master even over the wind and waves.

We are fighting a pandemic which all of a sudden seems dwarfed by these wildfires. Then we hear of two hurricanes which may strike our southern border at the same time. "Acts of God" they are called. But I like Peter's answer when Jesus asked if he wanted to leave him and follow the disheartened crowd, "If I leave you, to whom shall I go?"

I also remember how Satan buffeted Job with wave after wave of disaster hoping to turn him away from his faith in a gracious God. Job's livelihood was taken, his family died, and he was covered with open sores. Even his wife said, "Curse God and die." But Job clung to his hope of a living Redeemer.

I see my little sow bug has all but ceased kicking, so I reach down with my napkin and he hangs on. He doesn't move, he just clings. I watch him. Soon his little front feelers move in exploration. He appears to be OK so I relocate him to some dewy lawn and go in  the house to get ready for virtual church.