Long Shot

 

Long Shot

     It was a dream.  We were at Grandpa Bob’s house in the backyard on the grass.  I had been given a name.  Etsby.  Finding it in a resource, the name made sense.  This morning on Google search, it does not.  However, Estby is a Scandinavian surname meaning eastern village.  Being part Norwegian myself, this found its place home.  As a Christian, Christ comes into His future temple from the east.  So prophetically, Estby ties together two meanings.  However, Etsby continues to be the correct spelling given.  And that is the enigma He sometimes works in.

     My son and his wife are expecting.  We take names seriously.  His name, an Old Testament prophet, suffered for telling the truth.  His name given at a special time our family’s sensitive time overseas.  Like a bright light shown on the darkest day of the year.  God works that way sometimes.

     So, what of Etsby?  I don’t know.  I don’t predict the future.  Not with accuracy.  And that’s ok.  To know the future would drive me crazy, I think.  Thank you, Lord.  You hold our futures and select to give hints sometimes.  As a good Father, You tell of the end goal just not the detailed itinerary.  “Let’s go to Colorado!”  Great!  We all jump into the van and You drive.  You want our minds settled and looking out the window at the view.  To be wrapped up about the fuel supply and the next overnight stop would preoccupy us and overwhelm.  So, You show us the horizon as it comes.  In faith, we trust You to keep us on the road.

    You speak in riddles giving answers only to those who have sought You.  In seeking, we find more trust as You make more sense.  Making our way from the backseat, You beckon us to sit abreast.  Sharing Your forward view out the windshield, we dare to ask the next stop.  “Enjoy the road son.  I would let you steer, but you are unable.  Please be content to ride.”

     The future is shadowed.  That is great because our eyes are wide open.  Like a light too bright, the flash would blind and leave its afterimage.  Groping would suffer our hands to grasp even the current events of the day.

     Today, the dog needs fed.  My body needs dressed.  Routine of the day is to be enacted to accomplish even the mundane.  We wonder if any of this counts.  God came to Mary when her horizon stood three feet in front of her.  So nearsighted was she that a soft, warm spot was all on her mind.  God can come to us when we think of Him not.  Getting the gist of His call.  A general direction gets us going.  Don’t worry if prophets are not about your door telling you the details of the day.  The overcoming truth is that you are moving and that He is steering. 

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