Some indigenous people in the southern Philippines view a rainbow as a sinister omen.
Have you ever thought how many bizarre, inconsequential choices had to have been made just so you could rub shoulders with someone in the grocery store who is talking way too loudly on the phone about their weekend plans?
As the Covid-19 pandemic has rolled over us all like a thick, global cloud, I feel its dark shadows over our daily lives in countless ways. We are weary of masks and social restrictions, and missing the fellowship and communal worship of the church. Loved ones, stricken and hospitalized with the virus, are deprived of family visits. Our festive celebrations are robbed of joy when we are isolated.
When I was a young kid, my little brother had a pirate/treasure themed birthday party. The thrill of believing we actually found secret treasure buried in our backyard was so exhilarating that by the end all of us kids were literally clawing into the dirt to get our hands on it.
I’ll be the first to confess I often like to think of God as that “still, small voice” (1 Kings 9:12, NKJV). I like to imagine that an encounter with God happens in the secret and quiet place where all the din and noise of world finally fades away.
I remember this story so clearly from my childhood, which is due in large part to my illustrated children’s Bible that had a lovely illustration of Elijah’s dramatic scene of being taken up to heaven by chariots of fire.