Last weekend, the pixies, Tim and I threw our bags into the Rover and drove to meet some friends at Edisto Island. It was a quick trip, but when this time of year rolls around in the south, I start itching to hit the shore.
Dear friends of ours were going for an extended weekend vacation, and graciously invited us to join them. And so we did.
While we were there, the forecast predicted storms all day on Saturday. It took me back to memories I hold dear from a beach trip to the Outer Banks several years prior.
Two years ago, we escaped to the Outer Banks for a family vacation right after the initial lockdowns were lifted from Covid. We snagged a ridiculous rate at Duck for the week. The only caveat: a tropical storm was possibly going to hit the area.
I read it that morning, laying on the beach, anxiously awaiting news on whether we would have to evacuate the Outer Banks due to the impending tropical storm.
“Look instead at his feet because when a man has to decide which way he is going to bet his entire life, it is very often the feet that finally tell the tale.”
I was several chapters in to Frederick Buechner’s book, This Hungering Dark, and the current chapter, ironically, was on Noah building an ark in the midst of the coming storm.
For those of us familiar with Noah’s story, the Lord instructed him to build an ark, when there was no cloud in the sky. Those around him most likely dubbed him a fool. I can imagine the jests that ensued.
What man listens to a Voice that no one else can hear? A Voice that says “Plan. Build. Enter.”
And yet, Noah knew he heard the voice.
“So Noah had to decide, and the decision was not just a theological one—yes, it is God; no, it is not; and you live your life the same way in either case.”
Several days before we left for the Outer Banks, I had heard the Lord’s voice. He spoke specifically to my spirit. And although those words were private to the spirit within me, they were clear enough for me to know which direction our family should take in the coming storm.
The beach patrol continued to warn that there could be evacuations, the wind picked up, locals told tales of the Outer Banks being washed out, and yet my spirit had heard a Voice. Stay.
What was I going to do, believe? My feet would tell the story.
Buechner continued with the storm analogy:
“Men grasping out for something solid and sure to keep themselves from drowning …maybe the chaos was no greater than it has ever been. Only wetter.”
“And the turbulent waters of chaos and nightmare are always threatening to burst forth and flood the earth.”
Because isn’t this the truth? The world we live in is always threatened by the coming storm. Chaos surrounds us daily, turbulence rules the day. My beach moment is not unique. Do we stay or go? Do we listen to the Voice that makes us look like a fool?
Our feet will tale the tell. Because when all is said or done, what we really believe is evidenced by the direction we go. Watch the feet. Do we walk the road to grab the lumber? Do our feet carry us out the door to lift the hammer? Do we build the boat?
“Which direction will the feet move, or will they move at all? And they move in the direction of …the lumber yard…as he bets his life on his voice.”
So, look at your feet today. What direction are they taking you? Because no matter what we say we think or believe, our feet actually tale the tell.
Oh, and in case you were curious, our feet stayed here.
What a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing. It’s so comforting to hear the personal experiences of others listening to the Lords voice even when the world is screaming. Can’t wait to read more.
-a young mother, eager to learn more