And through the screen door, God stepped in with his left foot first. His boots were dusty from the trail he'd been forced to ride to end up here, and he was feeling a little parched, as well. I offered him a glass of lemonade and he asked me to sit it down on the table while he took off his gloves. He decided to leave his chaps on, as the wind was whipping across the prairie at a pretty good clip around that time of the year. The screen door slammed open and shut, as it had never been hung quite right, and all kinds of undesirable things had a tendency to blow right on in. Plus, he said he wouldn't be staying long, and didn't want to wrestle with taking those chaps off and on.
"So, once again, we meet at a crossroads, eh," he said. I looked up, but there was really nothing I could say that he didn't already know, so I kept my mouth shut. "Well, what's it gonna be, lassie? That old weathervane of yours is about to spin off its post." And then, of course, he had to add, "and the wind ain't really blowin' that hard, you know?"
I tried to lower my face so as to hide the shame I felt in calling the big man out to this forsaken place. He gave a little chuckle at that one. "Always the same, is it, lassie? You can hide from yourself, but you know darn well you can't be a hidin' from me!" And of course, he was right as rain, like always.
Then he threw back his head, finished off that glass of lemonade, and commenced to putting his gloves back on. I saw he was leaving, and I hadn't even spoken my plight yet. In a torrent of words, I tried to spew out my dilemma - stay or go - be happy or sad - take a risk or hide behind a smidgen of shelter. "Tell me what to do, my Lord! Please, sit a spell and talk with me! I need you most badly right now!"
He gave me that look - you know, the one a wise man gives a fool - and said, "You know darn well that I put all those answers inside your head, lassie, long before your soul and mine split apart." He laughed a little, like a stranger laughs at children playing, making fools of themselves. "Well....... it'll come to you one day, I suppose - it it's not today, then maybe tomorrow."
With that, he gave the old screen door a push, and strode out into the midday sun. As he was mounting up to move along, he turned his head back and said to me, "Someday, lassie - someday you'll catch on." Then his engine roared and a cloud of dust began to form, and off he went, until another day.
And that old weathervane of mine swirled and twirled and I really did wonder how long it would stay on its post.