This season of thanks can be a real pain when it comes to moods. Like the less than grateful mood I had when I came down my driveway today and it was littered with limbs.
I recently downsized my vehicle. I only have a year left of taxiing my teen before his license restrictions are lifted and I’m back in the driver’s seat of, well, not a Soccer Mom Minivan. (In my case, a Scout Mom SUV.) So I got myself a Camry and let me tell you something about Toyota’s reserved-for-the-older-mom sedan… It’s not your momma’s Camry. They tricked that baby out! It’s got some pep, a sick black grill, a little smoother and sleeker body. And lower. It’s lower. I do a few side checks to make sure nobody is standing around to catch the talent show that is me rising out of my new, cool, black, low to the ground, almost sports car. It involves rocking my body a couple of times to get a head start. There are noises… grunts mostly, but if you listen closely you can hear my joints creak. I’m not gonna lie, I found a hickey across my waist from bending a little too liberally in my tummy tuck underwear while lunging my lycra laden rear out of that sweet little bucket seat. It’s a work in progress.
But, hey, I’m rocking the Camry! Like, I rock driving that beast, not just getting out of it. I punch the pedal every so often to remind my kid that I have a cool car and I know how to use it. I frequently crank the tunes past the halfway to maximum volume. Mmmm hmmmmm. I wash it. I wash it a lot. And I drive it very, very slowly down our gravel driveway. Which led to the limb litter mood when I came home today.
Every few years, the power company sends out the forces to trim the limbs along the lines. They came around yesterday to let me know they’d be working on the property and they assured me they’d clean it all up. So I was, um, “surprised”… okay angry. I was angry when I had to navigate my new car through an obstacle course on my own drive. The power lines had a clear right of way, but the mess was still in the way.
I put that sweet girl in park, rocked out of her a little more limberly than usual, and lifted my phone to voice command a call to the Electric Company. My phone looked up something inappropriate on Wikipedia instead. So I MANUALLY searched google for the number and by then, I was ready to talk very sternly… to a computer punch-a-number system, and then the answering machine of a guy in charge of the department responsible for contracting the tree cutters. I was marching up my driveway by the time I “left my message at the tone”. I thought, “Alright, I’ll take pictures. If they don’t fix this, I’ll have pictures to.. to… to SHOW them!”
My hot head was bent toward the ground as I snapped shots of snapped limbs. I actually had to make an effort to make it look worse than it was. When I reached the top of the hill, I looked up and… ugh. I looked up some more. My eyes followed the power lines to the power pole and back to my feet and I realized I was standing in the pathway to power. Power that I needed. As a matter of fact, if I came home to a lack of power, I’d be much more annoyed than I was over the few branches that were scattered across my yard for the very purpose of bringing me power.
Would it be too punny to mention the power of perspective at this point? I turned around and kicked the limbs off the drive while kicking myself for getting so stirred up over something that ultimately benefited me. About that time, my phone displayed an “unknown number” which belonged to a very nice fellow from the power company. He apologized and explained that the trimmers seem to be making quick work of carving out the pathway to power and the cleanup crew would be through tomorrow. I thanked him, scooted a couple more branches out of the way, went into my house, and used a whole bunch of things that use power.
What do you see when you gaze down the pathway to power? Is it littered with trimmings of the things that hindered the purity of the power? Do you see the thin, frail lines stretching above to carry an energy so great that your home literally turns on with the flip of a switch? Do you see the tall, sturdy pole that hosts the power lines, lending its strength so that their strength can be carried to you?
I’m thankful for the pathway to power. I’m thankful for the power of God that surges through his Spirit. I’m thankful for strong believers who carry that power to me through their passionate prayers and edification. I’m thankful for the mess that’s left behind in the pathway of power because you better believe the purity of God’s power DESTROYS any evil thing that would try to stop it.
I’m thankful for the pathway to power and I give you a power that cannot be stopped. The power of the Creator, the power of the Alpha and Omega, the power of a loving Savior who defeated death to bring you life.
“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence” 2 Peter 1:3