It was one of the worst days of my life.  No, I take that back.  It was one of the worst YEARS of my life.  Or so I thought anyway.  It's been my observation that people are expert in their ability to put barriers between each other.  But, this was one of those times when God put a barrier between me and my family.  Barriers between family members isn't normally a good thing but, believe me, this was Holy intervention.

I had been working 6 to 7 days a week for well over a year.  We might work 13 days and take a day off but I worked as many as 19 or 20 before taking a day so you can probably figure out that everybody in the place was about at the end of their proverbial ropes.  How thankful we were for vacation days or the occasional holiday that meandered past.  However, this particular day was one of those in which everything and everybody seemed to be out to get me.

"How bad was it?" you ask.

Think of Yosemite Sam about the time Bugs sets off the dynamite.  No wonder he hates rabbits.  Think about Jerry hitting Tom with an anvil and his tongue flitting out like a party favor.  Think about Wiley Coyote as he leaves the cliff and notices that there's about 6 zillion feet of air between him and the ground.  Think of a smiling I.R.S. agent at your front gate.

During this period, I was also serving as a Paramedic and as Chief of Reserves for our local police department.  To put the cap on a less than perfect day, I had to fire one of our best officers because of what I perceived to be bureaucratic bungling and general not-too-smartedness.  By the time I finished the dastardly deed and was heading home, I was physically shaking.  Like the finest of silver, I was .999 percent mad dawg nasty.

"How mad were you?" you might ask.

I could curdle milk with a glance.  Cats bowed up and dogs snarled as I drove by.  Livestock stampeded.  Cows went dry.  Chickens quit laying.  Think of Hannibal the Cannibal with a toothache.

I was a breath away from the explosion point all the way home.  I kept repeating, "If one more thing goes wrong...Bang!  Zoom!  One more thing!  Just one more thing!"

It never dawned on me that my wife and daughters were waiting innocently at home with no idea that a Texas tornado was headed their way.  But, my path was set.  Snarling and drooling, I headed for them like Yogi the Bear on an unsuspecting doughnut.   "One more thing!  Just one more thing!"

I swerved into the drive and screeched to a halt.  I got out, slammed the door and turned to walk toward the house when I inadvertently stepped on a wet board that was lying in the grass.  You guessed it.  Both my feet went into the air and I landed on my back in the mud.

If memory serves, the whole episode lasted less than a minute but it seemed like longer.  Instead of jumping up, I just lay there looking at the stars.  There was no recliner.  No deck chair.  No cool drink in a tall glass.  Just little old me, lounging in the muck.

And then, I started to laugh.  And the more I laughed, the harder I laughed until my neighbor's cows gathered at the fence to see what was happening.  I guess even a slow-minded slug like myself can get the message every now and then.  I looked at the stars and said, "Okay".  By the time I cleaned myself off and got in the house, I was actually in a pretty good mood.  And my family never knew how close they came to near-nuclear devastation.

While I was enjoying my wallow in the mire, I thought I saw my neighbor's window blinds open and a couple of eyeballs peer through.  They didn't come out (the neighbors, not their eyes) but I can't say I blame them.  If I saw some wild-eyed varmint wallowing in the mud and howling at the moon, I doubt I'd leave the comfort of my shotgun-protected bedroom either.  At least they didn't call the law.  But then again, I was the law.  Scary, ain't it?

I have to admit it.  I made a pretty poor showing on this one.  I was a walking, breathing raw nerve and packing a gun to boot.  But emergency responders aren't the only ones on the edge.  Our society breeds stress like germs in a laboratory and it can leave any of us on the edge of sanity.  But, I've reached some conclusions from my street-level observations:

Sometimes, what looks like anger is really a cry for help.
Craziness may be a last grasp at normalcy.
Bizarre behavior may be nothing more than some person's mind saying, "I can't take much more of this".

Of course, rolling in the muck and barking at the moon could be considered normal behavior for me but I've seen some folks step in harm's way for no reason.  They've jumped in the fire and seemed to invite disaster.  Some just quit caring.

My "board in the grass" was the immediate solution on that day but the problem ran deeper and would take more intervention.  But, God never tires of interceding.   His well never runs dry.  He never grows weary of molding and shaping even when the clay rebels.

In John 7:37-38, Jesus says, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come and drink.  Whoever believes in Me, as the scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him."

You'll note that He didn't say, "whoever believes in Me and is perfect" or "belongs to a particular denomination" or "has no burdens from the trials of life, the job or this world".  "Who has no scars."  "Who's seen no pain, blood or death."  He said, "Whoever believes in Me".  Period.  It's a come-one, come-all invitation.

My miracle came in the form of a wet board.  So, I guess it's not the magnitude of the miracle that's important as much as who's performing it.

www.lifeinthedweeblane.com