BUCK STORM

Traveler’s Tip #334
On Highway 95 headed south? Take a left into the mountains at New Meadows and head for McCall, Idaho. Find yourself a wedding and hope for rain (they say rain on the wedding day means a long, blessed marriage). But don’t be surprised when you find yourself asking—where did this grey hair come from?
 
Ever wonder where the time went?

Wow…
Last week I stood beneath an angel-filled, Idaho sky. It stretched out above, alternating between deep blue and threatening rain. A surreal experience, standing there beside my son as his bride-to-be walked down the aisle toward us. Man, really? Where did the time go? This is the guy who, five minutes ago, was trying to master the R sound, hitting the ball off the tee, and running to third instead of first.
 
In the blink of an eye he’s a man. I’m both happy and proud. Tears upon tears.
 
The beautiful bride-to-be asked me to play a song for the ceremony—the first time I remember being nervous in forever. I taped the lyrics to the top of my guitar so I wouldn’t forget them. I think I executed the thing in a fairly coherent fashion but I can’t swear to it. If not, nobody cared, they were such a beautiful couple.
 
God held the rain off, but thunder rolled and cracked through the message as He blessed with His presence. Hard to imagine a more perfect and beautiful sound. I couldn’t stop smiling.
 
And then it was over, and there he went. Ransom Storm, the son of my youth. Back up the aisle with our new daughter-in-law and all I could do was stand there, just another guy clapping in the crowd.
 
Time… Oh, man, this life can hurt. We’ve all felt it. Life’s a breath, mister, and don’t forget to breathe because you might miss it.
 
            I talked to the Lord. “He’s my only son.”
            “He is.”
            “I miss him already.”
            “Trust me, I know all about Only Sons. And missing them.”
            “I love him so much.”
            “I love him more.”
            “Will they be okay?”
            He laughed—more thunder. “Yes, they will. Forever and ever…”
 
She loves him so much. I can see it in her face. And my son, he’s practically lost in her. As it should be. I’m happy for them. (Yeah, that’s right, I’m still crying).
 
A breath, a vapor, a wisp of smoke, a snap of the fingers. But, oh the blessings of the King! Ransom and Sarah Storm shine with the love of Jesus. God has been beyond faithful to me. Why me, Lord?
 
It’s just the beginning really.
 
And that’s the thing. When we know Christ the joy never ends. There is sadness here, sure, but we taste it briefly and move on toward perfect joy. What a future! Hope—it takes me to my knees.
 
Forgive my rambling, pilgrims. This isn’t the most thought-out or articulate blog I’ve ever written. But my heart is filled with the poetry of life, in all its glory—both sadness and joy. I’m feeling it deeply today and I want to share it with my friends and my Jesus.
 
My son disappears over the hill… Can you imagine? The poetry of life—I’m wrecked.
 
God gave His Own so that mine might never know death. What love is this!
 
And the joy! Time runs like water through my fingers. I can’t slow it. But it does’t touch Jesus. My God is waiting. And all eternity looms bright and shining.
 
So—welcome to the family Sarah Storm! You are beautiful, inside and out. Our hearts are full.
 
Family—friends—Jesus, forever. Can you imagine? What a glorious hope we have in our Maker! Never to end, never to grow dim! He holds us in his hand.
 
Guess what? The tears are still here. And I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
 
Fair winds,
Buck