Puddles of Help

As I cycled to chapel one day last month, I avoided the puddles on Brogden Lane. Those pools of water were brown with mud and deposits of grit. Although I have mudguards, my back and helmet are frequently spattered.  

On the return leg, later that evening, a hailstorm occurred. It did not last long, and a few minutes’ sheltering under the trees saw the worst pass. The lane, however, was all a-polka-dot with the little white pellets. I am more cautious regarding icy lanes then once I was, and departed from my arboreal refuge with reticence. Yet the day’s earlier puddles became my salvation: in them, the hailstones had melted away, and the ground beneath was unslippery, though wet. What I had earlier rejected became a great assistance in the night.

God sometimes uses the unfortunate, the awkward, the dirty and the unpleasant to achieve His purpose and deliver His folk. Paul’s shipwreck in Acts 27 procures the salvation of Publius and his father in Acts 28.   

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
the clouds ye so much dread
are big with mercy and shall break
in blessings on your head.

-William Cowper, 1774