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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