When the fence disappears

By Jim Honeycutt    

I still remember the night – roaring down that black dirt road, the smell of plowed fields in the air, the sound of wind in the cab, a smile on my face… All in my dad’s farm truck. Slowing briefly as I rounded a sharp turn, sliding slightly, fishtailing was part of the fun; I had it all under control. My watch showed time was edging to midnight. I knew I was far from where I needed to be—home. Getting caught up running the creeks and ponds of my dad’s farm, I lost track of time in the process. I didn’t really need the watch on my wrist to know the time, so no blame there. For I had walked these lands since my birth, learning to approximate time’s passage using the sky above me. The sun by day and now the moon and the stars at night. 

    At home, my father stood waiting, while the family slept. His rest postponed, I, his son, was on his mind. From young childhood, my father had raised me to be independent, self-reliant— obedient. These time restraints placed on me, my father believed necessary to bring about maturity through responsibility. Yet he longed for me to be with him. So, he stood, watching, waiting, praying. Yes, my father prayed. In all things, about all things, he had learned to speak with his Heavenly Father.

     Having heard them firsthand, my father’s prayers were never a fluff of words. My father’s words to his Lord were direct, specific, full of spirit. And I have no doubt powerful. But they were also tender, loving, expressive. I am sure this night, my safety was foremost on his mind. 

     And as I raced towards our home, the bed was on mine. Laughing, joking with a friend, just trucking along, I knew this old road like the back of my hand. Up ahead, the black dirt path became a gravel top. But just before that was a hairpin curve. No worries did I have; the fences on both sides of the road had reflectors starting about 100 yards before the curve. Yet something looked off… the fence on my left side, the one I used to judge where to begin slowing down, was gone. Funny, I thought as I continued without slowing. The trigger to slow was gone, so without thinking, not able to judge exactly where I was, I entered the curve way too fast. A deep ditch on one side, a creek on the other, and no fence to slow my out-of-control pickup. Neither my friend nor I, to this day, know how we made it around that curve. But my father did. 

     All through our lives, signs are placed all around us. Our eyesight has become so crowded, our minds so full of present-day activities, that we look past the signs of warning. Society has removed the fences we once used to mark our way. And laughing, joking, we just truck along life’s roadway, not paying attention to what’s coming ahead. Every person that I know has been through life’s unexpected hairpin curves. Some made it…others landed in the ditch. Reality says, there are more ahead. I don’t have to be a prophet to know the future brings the unexpected. That life presently distracts our perceptions. Fogging the signs of warning. But there is a waypost. There is a road straightener. There is a companion that intercedes. He stands watching, waiting, talking with his Heavenly Father. Yet unlike my earthly father, he doesn’t wonder where I am, when I will be home, for he is more than my father in every way. My father, while he was alive, did his best to protect and defend his children, but he was just a man. As a man, I know the struggles and failings that pride brings. Pride shackles our feet, blinds our eyes, deafens our ears, creates in us a world void of insight and wisdom. It is this thorn that cripples the most God-fearing of men. It has removed preachers, teachers, and fathers from their callings. 

     This week, God has spoken to me warnings of my behavior. That my pride is the vehicle driven to destroy the things I cherish. I need my mind refocused. I need my heart refocused. Taken off what I think, of what I want, and opened to the ways of a son given tasks by a loving Father. If I will pay attention, the signs are always there. His Light always shines, illuminating the winding road ahead. Even marking the stops along the way meant for rest.

What signs are you ignoring today?

A strained word with a loved one?

A neglected promise?

A path slowly veering from home? 

The Father waits.