The Whys and Wherefores

Sometimes you see things during the course of your day that make you pause.
Last week, I saw two things on separate days.
They seemed out of the ordinary so it made me take notice.
Taking notice is one thing; understanding is another.

I was heading home after a day filled with errands.
The kind of errand-filled day that requires you to get in and out of your car frequently.
I was going home thinking about how a nice cup of tea would be perfect.
I was nearing the turnpike entrance.

I pass that entrance every day in my travels, but this day was unique.
Sitting on the embankment, right before the entrance itself was a woman.
It was a warm spring day and she was sitting on her jacket, with a backpack beside her.
Her shoes were off and except for her location; I would assume she was relaxing.

She appeared to be scrolling through her phone and reading as she sat there.
I tried to imagine the story behind the woman.
Was she waiting for someone to pick her up before they got on the turnpike?
Was she walking and this seemed to be a good place for her to stop?

I had more questions than answers.
She didn’t seem to be in trouble and she seemed perfectly content to be sitting there.
It’s just that people don’t sit near turnpike entrances.
I remember praying for her protection.

The next day, I went to my favorite place with Amish buggies and farmland.
I planned my route and ended up making a big square around Lancaster County.
It was a gorgeous spring day, my music was playing, and I was enjoying my excursion.
As I drove past field after field, I saw men and boys in their straw hats behind large horses.

Young boys and older men were in the fields preparing the crop that will soon appear.
Black pants with suspenders and brilliant blue shirts were the common attire.
Beyond the fields was house after house with clothes drying on high clotheslines.
The Amish clothesline is a work of art with its order and its spectacular colors.

As I was driving, taking it all in, I saw him in the field.
An older man leaning against his plow, reading a book.
I imagined that he was taking a bit of a break there in the middle of the straight rows.
It seemed odd to me, since the Amish men are industrious, and do not waste any time.

Two days.
Two people.
Each stopped in an odd place.
Each reading.

Two worlds on the side of the road.
The one sat near the entrance of the turnpike, scrolling through her phone.
The other sat in his field, leaning on his plow, reading a book.
Each was doing an ordinary thing in a not so ordinary way.

But were they out of place?
Did I assume they should be doing this or that, here or there?
Was it me who attached more significance to the two things?
Don’t we all have the right to sit and read, or stop and rest, wherever we choose?

The next day Peter started out with them, and some of the brothers from Joppa went along. The following day he arrived in Caesarea. Cornelius was expecting him and had called together his relatives and close friends. As Peter entered the house, Cornelius met him and fell at his feet in reverence. But Peter made him get up. “Stand up,” he said, “I am only a man myself.” Talking with him, Peter went inside and found a large gathering of people. He said to them: “You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to associate with a Gentile or visit him. But God has shown me that I should not call any man impure or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without raising any objection. May I ask why you sent for me?”
(Acts 10:23-29)

Cornelius, a centurion of the Italian Regiment, was praying.
A man in shining clothes told Cornelius that God has heard his prayer.
Cornelius was told to send for Peter.
Peter was to tell Cornelius and his family and friends everything that God commanded.

Then Peter began to speak: “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts men from every nation who fear Him and do what is right. (Acts 10:34, 35)

Peter knew he was not supposed to be there.
A Jew did not go into the house of a Gentile.
It was out of the ordinary.
Lines were not to be crossed between the two worlds.

Except there are no barrier lines when God wants to call a person to Himself.
God will use any means possible to bring the Gospel to those that need to hear it.
Even in not so ordinary places.
Even in not so ordinary ways.

What if the woman on the side of the road was reading the Bible on her phone?
What if the man in the field, leaning on his plow was reading his Bible?
I have no way of knowing, but God does.
Maybe to God, turnpike entrances and farm fields are the perfect places to stop and read.

Maybe to God, the place does not matter as much as spending time with Him.
Maybe to God, there is no out of the ordinary place.
Any place we are with Him is holy ground.
We can stop and read His Word or talk to Him in prayer at any time or any place.

I have no way of knowing what each person was doing.
But God allowed me to see them.
Seeing them made me pause.
Pausing caused me to ponder.

Pondering brought me right back to Him.
God, our starting point and ending point.
God, the Alpha and the Omega.
God, the beginning and the end.

God knows the whys and wherefores of our stories.
God does not take His eye off of us for a second.
What we see in passing, God knows in totality.
No matter where we are, He is always there.