Under an Iffy Sky

 

It's a 2 km walking route I'm doing these days, along one of the many paved trails that crisscross through our neighbourhood.  Takes me about 20 to 25 minutes.  There's a little creek that runs parallel for some of it, and then a wooded area.  This time of year there are various blooms showing up along the way.  Based on the weather, and especially if I'm dressed for it, the walk itself is quite pleasant.

But here's the deal.  I really don't care to get rained on.  That's why I'm always checking my weather aps; one on my phone and a different one on my computer.  That, and the sky itself.  

Most days it's an easy decision.  It's either dry enough and likely will be for the next half hour, or it's not.  I can tell.  I'm going out for my walk, or I'm not.  I can tell.

But the other day it was on again, off again, and hard to know.  My two aps were giving different information.  And the sky itself wasn't helping.  Really dark clouds, but with sudden and brief bright sunny intervals.  I'm usually fairly decisive, don't like to waste time dilly-dallying about things.  Yet the simple decision as to whether or not I would go for my walk plagued me for most of the afternoon.  

For most of us, decisions are easy to make when the data is clear.  Even when there's a lot at stake, when the outcomes are reasonably controllable, we usually go ahead and make that big purchase, accept that job offer, head off to further our education, or marry that person we're so drawn to.

And of course, it's preferred and considered wise to muse over all the data ahead of time.  As much as we can in any given situation.  We want to close the gap between what we know and what we don't know before deciding to move ahead.  And when we can, we should do just that.  No faith required, really.  Just weighing the data points and using common sense.

But sometimes we can't see the way ahead so clearly.

Sometimes we are pressed into moving forward way before we feel we have any control on the outcomes at all.  It's like we are out under an iffy sky, with no way of knowing for sure if we'll get drenched. 

Or, as Isaiah describes it, we're out walking in the dark.

Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the word of His servant?  

Let the one who walks in the dark, who has no light, 

trust in the name of the LORD and rely on their God.

That's from Isaiah 50:10.  And this first part I like well enough.  Sounds so reassuring to have God right there, guiding me along when the way isn't clear.  It's the next bit, though, that reads a bit rough for me.  Verse 11 goes on to say:

But now, all you who light fires and provide yourselves with flaming torches, 
go, walk in the light of your fires and of the torches you have set ablaze.  

This is what you shall receive from my hand; you will lie down in torment.

Wait, what?  Such harsh consequences, natural or logical either way, just for finding a flashlight so you can make your way in the dark?  

In context here, and in keeping with the poetic nature of Isaiah's prophecy as a whole, we can't miss how these two images are purposefully put in contrast to one another.  The one idea is that we make our way in the dark by trusting in God's reputation.  That's what trusting 'in the name of' means.  Also, when we see LORD capitalized like that it's an indication that in the original Hebrew the name being used was Yahweh, the One and Only God every Hebrew person gave their exclusive allegiance to.  This is Who they were to rely on.

By contrast, there are those who try to take control of the situation by their own means.  By lighting torches, in this poetic imagery.  Finding their own solutions, taking matters into their own hands, indicating a profound lack of trust in God, in Yahweh, to take care of things.

Poetic prophesy being all that it is, I do not for a minute believe God wants us to forego reasonable wisdom gathering when we have decisions ahead of us.  There's too much elsewhere in Scripture that talks about counting the cost, and thinking things through, and seeking advice, and the like.  

But I do think we are prone to lighting our own torches.  Well maybe it's just me.  When the pressure is on and the way ahead is dark, I feel the impulse to take matters into my own hands, and move ahead based on how it all fits inside my own little head.

Lighting my own torch might look like;

• Failing to stop and listen and pray
• Rushing ahead without clear guidance from Scripture
• Getting all flustered and anxious and pushy for somebody to 'do something!'
• Landing on one solitary 'solution' and getting so fixated on it that I don't listen to other options
• Acting outside of my proven circle of counsellors 
• Forgetting to hold myself accountable to the appropriate parties
• Thinking all the solutions and all the outcomes begin and end with me
• Believing I'm the only one who knows what we all should be doing
• Forgetting Who it is that's actually in control

I'm not quite sure what torment Isaiah is thinking they'd like down in, but I do know that trying to light my own torches can lead to a whole string of long and tortuous sleepless nights.

That iffy-sky day, I didn't end up getting rained on.  And if I had, it certainly wouldn't have been all that disastrous.  But the back and forth of it brought to mind other ways I feel like I'm walking in the dark right now, not being able to see the path before me clearly at all.  Mostly, I'm thinking of the way ahead for some big ministry plans to build our very badly needed new facility for all those amazing kids in Thailand, and how the global fuel crisis has laid heavily on those plans.  And other stuff where I can't really see the way ahead.

And so.

Yahweh...lead on.  

In the dark, under an iffy sky.  

I will let You hold on to me 

and take me where we're going.