As I prepared to leave work yesterday, I looked out my window and noted dark clouds above. Yet, when I scanned the ground, it was dry. I figured I could make it home and as such left my rain gear in my pannier.
A couple miles into my commute, on a section of road that runs adjacent to the James River, I glanced to my left, across the river and to what did my wondering eyes behold, but a wall of white racing across the surface of the water in my direction.
I immediately calculated the distance to the nearest shelter and compared it to the distance of the storm. I then bounced my current speed against the speed of the impending maelstrom. I think I can make it. I should have recognized the foolishness of such an endeavor. It would not be a battle against flesh and blood, but an all out sprint against the Hand of God that gently nudged the storm. In this match up, I was sure to come up short. I know this, not based on some theological theory, but from first hand experience, for this was not our first head to Head sprint.
The thing about it is that although I have a rough idea my of distance to the nearest shelter and the time it will take me to get there, God knows it precisely, down to the nearest nanosecond. Armed with that omniscience, God times His effort such that his opponent maintains a slim margin of hope that I was actually going to be able to make it. Then just before crossing the finish line, God sweeps the storm over me such that I arrive at the shelter drenched and panting profusely from my vain effort.
For God's part, I think it's all in good fun. It brings a smile to His face when His creation dares to go toe to toe (or pedal to pedal) with Him. For my part, I don my rain gear and slowly ride the rest of the way home. Grateful for the fact that I have a Creator that takes the time out of His busy schedule of running the universe to help me improve my sprinting skills. I just wish He'd let me win every once in a while!