A Tail Of Two Trains

 

A Tail Of Two Trains

Luke 15:20 “And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.”

BNSF – Burlington Northern and Santa Fe Railway

     Have you ever heard from an old friend?  So old that you did not recognize his voice?  In the speaker of the phone, words are spoken that reached back to span experiences to childhood when the air was pure and the sky shown its light unfailingly.  Such were those days in rampant denial yet come back as a storm cloud advancing in front.

     The power of the past in years gone by inflicts the soul and makes me shake.  A tinge of regret and I wonder if I caused a derailment.  Words spoken in ignorance of compassion thrown and I suck up the fruit of my wondering mouth yesterday.   Enough to cause my head to spin, my morning is grasping for a lock down point, a grounding for this zeppelin.  How I hate to be filled with hydrogen threatening an explosion.  Lord, helium would be better.  It’s inert and takes a match without hurt.

     It is only by the grace of God go I.  Good or bad decisions?  I am nothing.  I cannot say say my hierarchical state of blessing it built on successive blocks of reasoning dedicated to my sanity.  It didn’t work that way.  Divine intervention kept this train on its rails.  I claim no pride to grease the wheels and stoke the fire in the boiler.  A certain coldness and deadness at the station would leave me still in the switch yard growing rust if not for the blood of Christ running through the life of this conductor.  I am nothing.  Never was.

      The caboose used to be where the conductor slept in the in between times waiting for the next load to be pulled.  Lately one told me too much mischief happened in these boxes so they did away with them and substituted them with a small flashing warning light.  I don’t know.  I like cabooses but I could see where monetary concerns would mothball them.  Nevertheless, as if grabbing a snake by the tail, the whole train juts to straighten out its ties in cars loosely holding hands forced to grab together as one. 

     Maybe the past does that.  Staking down what was known, the caboose locks its brakes and the subsequent firing of collisions sound as ice cracking under the weight of conscience.  I don’t know.  What happened certainly caused this conductor to watch the signs more closely.  Red and green flags tell of good or bad.  Is there a ghost train sharing my upcoming track?  Will I run the intersection and grind blood to the rail in careless accusation as my influence so bobs about center?

     What is the attitude of a BNSF freighter steaming into town?  Physics has determined the killing potential.  God please strike my mouth that I not cause pain again.  You have placed potential in the power of my tongue to build up and to tear down.  Forbid the venom to strike Your little ones.  So paralyzed they, it would break me to see them writhe in pain again.  Only You, O Lord.  Only You.

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