God's Protection in Strange Ways

WARNING: This article is not FOR MEN ONLY, though women might find it of little interest, unless they can endure the manly stuff to find the spiritual stuff.

I am somewhat of a shade tree mechanic, primarily for two reasons. First, I enjoy figuring out how things work. Second, I hate paying someone to do what I could do myself. Have you been to a mechanic lately? This ability to do some of my own auto repairs comes in quite handily considering the vehicles I drive. As in most families, my wife drives the good car. I drive the one with gas coming out of the radio.

Actually, I am the proud owner of two rather aged vehicles. I drive older cars primarily for two reasons. First, I like the character of the not so new rides. A lot of the newer cars all look alike, no matter the manufacturer. Besides, the older cars were just built better, ran better, and are easier to work on when the need arises. Second, I hate car payments. So, I drive a 1986 Ford F-150 and a 1988 Jeep Wrangler (not at the same time, of course).

A few months ago, I noticed that my truck was leaking power steering fluid. A few days later,  the power steering went out. Over the next few weeks, I replaced every component of the steering system that I had the ability to replace, but I could not get the leak to stop. Finally, I gave up and took my old rust bucket to a mechanic, who quickly informed me that the fluid leak was the least of my problems. The frame of the truck had developed a huge crack and was barely holding together. Had it broken while I was driving, I would have lost the ability to steer and the results could have been bad, even deadly. I would have never known about the frame, had the leak stopped. Thank God for a power steering leak!

Recently, I was driving my Jeep when the oil pressure disappeared. I feared the worst, because that could have meant a new motor. Turns out the oil pump went out. This past Saturday, my friend Dwayne and I dropped the oil pan and changed the oil pump. My old faithful purred like a kitten and I was so happy that we would have more days of four wheeling bliss on Brown Mountain in our future.

Yesterday, I woke up with excitement. I was finally going to take the Jeep for a drive. I rushed out to greet my steel baby. I patted the dashboard and said, "Let ride, baby doll." The engine started, and we pulled out of the driveway. As I headed down the steep hill to the four lane road we live on, the brake pedal went to the floor, but I was not stopping. The Jeep was rapidly picking up speed and there was nothing I could do to stop. At the stop sign, all I could do was turn sharply into the four lane. Thankfully, there was no traffic, which is rare. I was able to gain my composure and bring the Jeep back to my garage. Brake fluid was everywhere. I had sprung a leak in a brake line.

Had this happened while I was driving down the road it might have been devastating. However, because my oil pump went out, I was close to home and driving during a time of day when traffic was minimal. Thank God for a broken oil pump!

How often have we complained about difficulties, trials, and delays? How often have we despised those things that unexpectedly break our routine? Perhaps we would do well, before complaining, to find out if it is actually part of God's plan for your life. 

Remember, "The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD, And He delights in his way." - Psalms 37:23

Grandpa Again

He's finally here. Elijah Ransom Ward, weighing in at 8lbs 13oz, arrived Thursday morning. He is absolutely wonderful.
I had the joy of taking his big brother, Dakota, to the room to meet the new arrival. I looked at my firstborn grandson just before entering the room and said, "When you walk through this door, you're life is never going to be the same." The fact is, all of our lives changed yesterday.

This is our second grandson and I have to say that there is just nothing quite like the feeling of peering into the face of a newborn grandchild. It is such a feeling of validation. It is one of God's special ways of letting us know that, despite all of our failings, we perhaps did something right. We got our children through those turbulent times on the road to adulthood and now, they have become responsible adults.
Elijah's middle name is Ransom, after my grandfather, Reverend R.W. Shores. He was the only one of her great-grandfathers that Heather remembers very much. PaPaw Shores was a wonderful man of God. He was known for his prayer life.
I had a special opportunity on Thursday. Elijah had been taken to the hospital's nursery for a check up and a bath. I was anxious and went for a stroll through the hospital hallway, when I happened on the newborn window. There he was, right in front of the window, all alone. He even turned toward the window and seemed to lock eyes with me. As I stood by the window, staring at that new bundle of potential, I began to reflect on the mysteries of life. No one else was around, so I began to speak out loud to my grandson. I asked him, "What will you become? An athlete? A teacher? A president? Or a preacher?"
I then told him, "The sky is the limit. You've been given a tremendous gift of life. Make the most of it, young man."

A Blessed Man

I am anxiously awaiting the birth of my second grandson, which is quite miraculous considering that my oldest daughter was never suppose to be able to bear children. God always has the last word.
In the waiting, I have spent the past few days reflecting on how truly blessed I have been. Knowing myself as I do, I am sure that those blessings are undeserved. Grace is such a wonderful thing.
My wife and I will celebrate 30 years of marriage in just a few months. I am still trying to figure out how that happened. One incident from our wedding day still makes me chuckle a little. One of my aunts had taken her seat in the church, when she overheard a lady in the pew behind her remark about my wife, "she could have done so much better." I totally agree with that lady's assessment. Yet, thirty years later, Regina has kept me around and hopefully I have gained a bit more worthiness.
I have had the blessing of 30 years that have been nothing short of incredible. Together, we have seen the world. We have enjoyed so many adventures. I never like going anywhere or doing anything without her. We are best friends, after all these years. She is my life.
God has blessed us with four beautiful daughters. Each possesses a unique blend of just enough of their father's humor, audacity, and practicality, along with their mother's tenderness, love, and true faith. There are times when the scales are tipped. Heather is often too much like her dad for her own good, but holds the same strong faith her mother exhibits. Lauren and Sara have the tender heart of their mom that causes them to cry much too easily, while they have their daddy's love for laughter. Then, there's Caitlyn, who is the mirror image of her dad's adventurous spontaneity, blended with her mom's lack of attention to details.
The one thing all four of my girls have in common is that they love their daddy. They work hard to spoil me and I will never ask them to stop.
They all follow Christ. I am so impressed how that each one has found their place in the kingdom and is fulfilling their purpose.
They are all strong spirits. I like to think they have taken the best of their mother and me, and that those good parts will prove to be their strengths.
One of the fears of every dad who has daughters is that they will marry well. So far, so good. I am blessed with two wonderful sons in law. Michael and Robbie are both hard workers. They are achievers. I am so proud of them. Most of all, they love their wives.
Then, there is Dakota. He is Pop's pride and joy. He's going to be a great big brother.
Added to all these blessings I can include wonderful parents who I can emulate, a great little sister who I love dearly, tremendous inlaws, an outstanding church family, and a host of terrific friends. Can a man be any richer? I am truly blessed.