He's Got This

I pulled the curtain back to see where the day was at and what the weather was doing.

The clouds were all ominous and dark. The kind that make a driver start doing math in their head. Storm coming? Which way is it moving? Do I need to care about this tomorrow?

Then I scanned a little further and my breath caught.

It was a painting.

Could I capture it? Could I freeze it? Could I do it justice?

I grabbed both cameras and trusted that at least one shot would carry what I was seeing. Something worth sharing. Something someone else needed to see.

Honey watched from the passenger seat. Observing the weird human behavior. She didn't need a camera. She was already in the moment, completely unbothered, fully present the way she always is.

I stood there in a gravel yard in Omaha between a row of bobtails feeling small and tired.

And God said, I got this.

Not out loud. He rarely is. But it was there in the sky as plain as anything I've ever read in a book. He'd been painting the whole time and all I had to do was pull back a curtain.

We spend so much time three states ahead of ourselves. Miles to go. Loads to plan. Weather to watch. Our minds running the road before our wheels ever touch it.

Honey never does that. She's always exactly where she is.

Maybe presence is its own kind of faith. Maybe gratitude isn't something earned. It's there in the giving.

God was giving me a gift.

All it took was pulling back a curtain.

One Safe Mile | onesafemile.com