When I was an adolescent I walked to the end of the street to catch the bus every day. When it was raining, my Dad would urge me to take an umbrella. Sometimes he would just hand me one and send me on my way. Well, he might has well have given me rain boots and a yellow rain coat as far as I was concerned. There was no way I was going to really use it. So when I would get to the corner I would run up to the last house and place it on the front porch to leave while I went to school. Then I would pick it up on my way home in the afternoon. He never realized I did not follow his advice, and I never told him.
Many years have gone by since I walked to catch the bus at the corner of our street, but I still find myself doing the same thing in a different kind of way. God provides everything I need in life to prosper, and grow in Him, like an umbrella of hope and protection, and yet I find myself at times still disregarding His direction. I am still leaving the umbrella at the corner house. I choose to weather the rain on my own, holding my foolish pride in hand.
Now that I am getting older, and have weathered many a storm in life, I have learned the hard way enough times with scars to prove the lesson, that life's journey to the corner is much more pleasant and rewarding when taken under His umbrella of protection and guidance. I may stray from time to time, but I never lay His umbrella down for long when I know the rain is heading in.
Also sharing with lovely Emily at Imperfect Prose
