God Whispered To Me

By Randy Knapp

My favorite temperature is 65 degrees Fahrenheit – when I’m working. If I’m sitting at my desk writing, I like 72 degrees. When it gets up to 75 or 80 degrees my mind gets foggy.

When I’m mountain climbing I like 25 degrees best. That way my crampons get a good purchase and slushy snow doesn’t clog them up.

I like the weather most when it’s not raining and the wind is calm.

When rainy storms blow around my house I worry about the roof leaking, chairs toppling over outside, or my patio canopy ripping from an especially heavy gust.

I’ve been out in storms many times, but usually it was because I got caught in them, not because I chose to go out into the tempest. Whether I enjoyed them or not, though, some of my most life-changing events and enduring memories have developed in the middle of raging storms.

About a year ago I was spending a weekend with friends out at the Oregon coast. It was late evening. The wind was whistling outside and blowing sheets of rain diagonally against the windows of our beach house. I was relaxing in a comfortable recliner when I distinctly sensed God whisper to me to come out and walk with Him in the storm. I didn’t have a raincoat with me, so I knew I’d get drenched and shivering cold.

I tried to figure out what I would say to make my exit. I didn’t want to explain what was going on to my wife or friends. That would have taken away the mystery. I wondered if they would think I was crazy. I hesitated, waiting for the right moment to leave, but the moment didn’t come. I didn’t go out into the storm, and I didn’t walk with God on the beach that night.

I am haunted by the memory. I often wonder what God wanted to tell me on that stormy night. I feel a sense of loss, a precious moment gone, never to return. I wonder how things would have been different if I weren’t so particular about the weather.

Last summer I bought a waterproof parka and a friend gave me a good book that explains weather patterns and cycles. I pay more attention to different kinds of weather now. I look for patterns in the clouds. I walk in the rain with less reluctance. I listen to the musical notes in the sing-song voice of a windstorm. I stop what I’m doing to enjoy the beauty of a sunset.

I’m learning how to take pleasure in more varieties of weather. I’m trying to prepare – to do whatever it takes, because I want to be ready. I don’t want to miss out the next time God’s whisper comes to me.

Randy writes from Medford, OR. You can correspond with him at knappsnest@msn.com