A point of clarification, and reptilian terror

To clarify:  I took on two new, entirely unrelated roles this spring.


1.  Volunteer board member of our homeschool support group.  I'm committed to this for the 2016-2017 school year.  There are four other board members, all of whom have done it for at least the past two years.  The whole support group has over 100 member families.  The group does field trips, social events, testing, and a high school graduation ceremony, among other things.


2.  Preschool director for our church's Vacation Bible School this summer.  This is a temporary, paid position, ending after VBS week is over in July.  We are planning for almost 500 children, ages 3 through 5th grade.  160 of those will be ages 3 through rising kindergarteners, which is the portion I am in charge of.  This year's theme is "Cave Quest: Following Jesus, the Light of the World."

It was this VBS theme I was thinking of last night as Jason and I biked home in the dark from a dinner date.  The bike paths are lovely but unlit and only Jason had brought his phone.  He rode in front, illuminating the path with his phone.  I could see just the silhouette of his pumping legs in a pool of light ahead, and utter darkness in the space between us.


We rode on and on as I thought how well that illustrates living by faith.  I could not see where I was about to step/ride.  But I could see the one who goes before me, and though my eyes couldn't tell me the way ahead was safe, I knew it was, because he had already gone that way.


It was imperative, too, that I keep my eyes on the light ahead.  I needed to stay close to stay safe.  I couldn't look around to see how close I was to lagoons or other dangers to the side; nor could I be distracted by alluring scenery.  I needed to keep my eyes locked on the light and keep close.


Two blocks before we reached home....we disturbed a 5-foot alligator laying on the side of the path.


Jason zipped by it before it reacted, so just as I passed, I saw large movement in the dark near my feet and heard heavy slithering and a loud splash as he departed our company.


This may or may not have been followed by screaming and violent swerving.


We finished the trip at triple speed.  My heart was still racing when we flopped on the couch, panting and thankful for family, bright lights, and a heavy front door.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares

I have already come

'Twas grace that brought me safe thus far

And grace will lead me home