Usually when Alan and I get up early and read our Bibles together, we can hear birds serenading the rising sun, but a couple of weeks ago, our background melody was the rumble of thunder and the drum of heavy rains. I didn’t think much of it—other than to enjoy it— but when it stopped, I could hear a singular bird caroling again.
Similarly, last weekend Alan and I spent Friday night at Grand Haven State Park, and the next morning as we were strolling along the boardwalk, we were mesmerized by the deep, throaty roar of engines. Three fleets of power boats, each led by a flag ship (red, yellow, and the last green), came out the channel of the Grand River like an armada off to war. It touched something deep inside me, and I felt like crying. It made me think of war, and I remembered Dunkirk. We had no clue what was going on, but it was obviously a regatta of some kind, because when they got to the end of the Grand River channel, they opened up their engines and went flying down the coast of Lake Michigan. Have you seen Dunkirk yet? It’s gotten an 8.6 rating on IMDb,
and I think it must be be a stellar movie. At least, when we visited the Normandy Coast of France last year, I was totally overwhelmed by the heroism of the everyday Englishmen
who saved so many of the troops! At any rate, I took videos of the three fleets as they roared off, and what I noticed afterward
was the sound of a little cricket chirping in the grass beside me… something I’d been oblivious to while my attention was absorbed by the regatta. Not long after the boaters were off,
we heard the wail of Coast Guard sirens and saw a helicopter. One of the couples in the race was badly injured when they hit a big wave
on their way to Holland for what I learned was the “Rock the Coast” race. I haven’t heard the end of the story,
but I know the wife was airlifted to Spectrum Hospital’s intensive care unit. Probably very few of us ever enjoy the thrill of racing a power boat, but all of us experience the race of life and hit heavy seas at times that rock our boats. Although we often fail to hear those quiet sounds until after the rumble of thunder, the roar of our engines, and we’ve gotten knocked around and injured, there is a voice that can be heard if we’re listening… the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit, wooing us to Himself…offering to help us figure out our lives. Are you listening? Are you willing?
“And he said, ‘Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.’ And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?‘” (1 Kings 19:11-13, ESV)
(Photo credits: I took the photos of the Rock the Coast Race last weekend in Grand Haven [except for the one of me, which my husband took], but I took the three of the Normandy Coast in the spring of 2016. The B&W photo of Dunkirk is from the Australian War Memorial [Wiki], and the other is a poster for the 2017 movie, Dunkirk, which is showing in theaters right now.)