I shifted in the seat, easing the ache of my lower back. We were already a few hours into the trip–my car trailing behind the truck my dad was driving–and I was beginning to feel the effects of the journey. Music blared from the radio and my sisters and I sang along, lyrics twisting with laughter as the miles passed.
And then the rain hit.
Our gorgeous day was momentarily wiped out with sheets of angry rain. Everything went gray. Cars were pulling off the side of the road with blinking flashers because seeing two feet in front of your car felt impossible.
To be clear, I’m never particularly calm in this circumstance. When I’m operating tons of moving metal, I like being able to see. It’s important to me. But I was especially frantic in this moment because I didn’t know where I was. I had no idea where I was going. I was following my dad and I couldn’t see him.
My sister called him on the phone and he calmly talked me through the chaos until the weather passed, giving me direction and reassuring me that this was a mess but it would be fine.
He was right.
That moment happened weeks ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it. If my father was unkind, he could have left me. He could have been frustrated with me for not staying closer. He could have easily made me feel like it wasn’t worth worrying about, that I was silly for even letting it affect me.
But I have a good father. A kind father. A father that doesn’t let distance or storms change the way he speaks to me, the way he cares for me.
On the rest of the drive, I teared up several times thinking about the moments I’ve let distance or storms come between me and God. I thought about how easy it was to reach for my earthly father when I was scared, how much concern I felt when I could no longer see him.
I thought about how God is even closer than a phone call away, but my instinct is to find my own way before calling for His help. And if I can no longer see Him or catch His guiding hand, it takes a hot second to notice because I’m often caught up in my own path.
But I have a good Father. A kind Father. A Father that doesn’t let distance or storms change the way He speaks to me, the way He cares for me.
And I want to follow Him.
I want to listen to His calm voice talking me through the chaos, giving me direction and reassuring me that this world–this life–is a mess but I will be fine.
And because He is a Father worth following, He will be right.