Sometimes Heavenly Father blesses us in our foolishness. Or saves us from our foolishness. Or intervenes when we do something that could cause us to experience tragic consequences . . .
And then sometimes He doesn't.
Can you feel a foolish story coming here?
Maybe I should start with . . .
A least two times as we were walking out the door I received the prompting to put on my sport hiking sandals that buckle onto my feet instead of the cheap flip flops, but brushed it off, not once but twice, preferring to not imagine a circumstance where I would need a more sturdy shoe. You'd think I would know better.
As we were preparing to launch a canoe on the Provo river, a river we have canoed down, kayaked down, inner-tubed down several times over the years . . . (Although never at this early season of the summer) We noticed the water downriver was much higher and swifter than we anticipated. While lulled by the more peaceful and calm waters upriver, the thought did cross our minds that maybe it wasn't a good idea. That maybe today wasn't the best day for such an activity.
But again we brushed it off . . .
Why do we do these things? !!
Looking back in hindsight which is always 20/20 . . . Our foolishness was apparent. And I'm grateful that sometimes our Heavenly Father saves us or deliverers us from our foolishness. (Though sometimes he doesn't)
I'm grateful that for us it was the earlier option this time, though perhaps we were undeserving.
After our experience on the river, I barely had time to make it back home and dash off to work for the night. I was scheduled for my 5th to last shift at the hospital before we make our final departure to the MTC and then to the mission in Honduras. A place that we have deemed infinitely more dangerous than the Provo River which is almost in our backyard. And after much pondering between patients, maybe the lesson for me was that if Heavenly Father can save us in our foolishness, he can surely preserve us in our service with wisdom, knowledge and a grain of cautiousness.
Though I have a quiet but firm reassurance through the Spirit that our service is needed in Honduras, and all will be well and we need not fear. It's difficult to not have doubts. But I'm not doubting . . . I'm not fearing. I'm really not.
But maybe I do need a lesson in heeding the quiet whispering of the Spirit.
While I may eventually get around to sharing the physical details of the experience, this is a spiritual details post. As I review in my mind the many tragic news stories of the day, and lest you miss the ultimate message of my relayance . . .
Let me just say today . . .
I am grateful, immeasurably grateful.