Expect an Adventure!

God will put his angels in charge of you to protect you wherever you go. –Psalm 91:11 GNT

 As I write this, I’m in the midst of packing for a short camping trip. I plan to do nothing for three days but rest, read, relax, crochet, and eat. Which is why I made potato salad, chicken soup, chicken salad, and a dinner casserole beforehand—so any cooking and cleaning up while on the trip is minimal. Very minimal. Like almost nonexistent.

If the weather cooperates, I might consider a short, non-challenging (meaning a flat, easy trail of no more than a mile, round trip) hike if DH talks me into it. But don’t tell him.

We both need a break from the in-depth projects we’ve been working on, from juggling too many things at the same time. He’s loaded his fishing gear, and I my books, magazines, Kindles, and current crochet project.

Even though I envision sitting with my feet propped up all day, I’m realistic enough to know that “life is what happens while you’re making other plans.” (Thank you, John Lennon, for that marvelous quote!) The countless trips we’ve taken over the years—and the many misadventures that went with them—have taught me to go with the flow. There are times you swim against the current and times you go with it, making the best of things and enjoying the unexpected experience.

Perhaps the misadventure has a purpose: to teach a lesson, reveal a new perspective, deepen compassion, expand understanding, or (ugh!) grow patience.

Take our month-long trip to the Pacific Northwest last year.

All did not go according to plan—and, believe me, we planned ad nauseum.

We had wonderful adventures along with some interesting misadventures. Like when we had to cut the day’s travel time short because Dean got dehydrated and couldn’t drive another mile. Thankfully one of our travelling companions was a former EMT.

Or when my lower back went out, and I literally shuffled (and suffered) for two days—one of which was spent touring a museum. Thankfully, our other travelling companion had brought along his back therapy paraphernalia and loaned it to me. My pain lessened, and I was able to move around better a lot sooner than I usually do when my back gives me issues.

Then there was the blown camper tire on I-80 just past Chicago that required four new tires before we could continue our journey home. The state trooper who stopped to help us directed us to a Walmart only a few miles away, where we stayed the night before getting the new treads—and where a former Marine stopped and chatted with DH, also a veteran of the USMC.

I always wear my angel necklace when we travel. And we always pray when we set out on a trip for God to protect us. I envision God’s angels surrounding us, being that shield around us. Yes, God’s angels were right there in each so-called misadventure—the former EMT, the friend with the back stuff, the state policeman, the USMC vet.

Perhaps the most important lesson I’ve learned through these so-called misadventures is who’s really doing the driving on this trip called life. And when He’s got the wheel, as my friend DiAnn Mills likes to say, expect an adventure!

Thank You, Lord, for the wonderful trip of life, for the adventures and misadventures, and for Your abiding presence, abundant provision, and able protection through them all. Amen.

Read and meditate on Psalm 91.

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Wanna Get Away?


Mount Horeb
Photo courtesy of Getty Center [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
He traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. –1 Kings 19:8 NIV

Twice in my adult life I ran away from home. I just needed to get away by myself for a while and hide from the disappointments, ongoing issues, life pressures, and perceived failure that had driven me to an all-time low. The issues, I knew, wouldn’t magically disappear when I returned, but a time-out, I hoped, would refresh, renew, and restore my energy, enthusiasm, and dreams.

The first time I went to my brother’s home in Alabama for a week. There I read, rested, ate nutritional food (the only kind they keep in the house), prayed, and rested … oh, wait, I said that. But resting my body, mind, and soul were vital to recovery, restoration, and renewal.

The second time I fled to a mountain cabin that was a special place when I was growing up. Now owned by close friends, the cabin is a healing place. There I rested, sat on the porch swing and listened to the wind in the trees and the birds squawking, put together a jigsaw puzzle, read, and ate microwave meals because I didn’t want to cook. After only three days, I was ready to return home.

The thing about running away: there’s something you’re running away from and something you’re running to.

I wonder—when Elijah fled Queen Jezebel, did he consciously set out for Mount Horeb?

Also known as the mountain of God, Horeb, better known as Mount Sinai, was the place where God called to Moses out of the burning bush with a challenging assignment and where, not too long after, He gave Moses the Ten Commandments. And it was here He met Elijah.

He was gentle with his overwrought, exhausted servant.

Exhaustion affects us not only physically, but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Exhaustion skews our perspective and judgment. So God addressed Elijah’s exhaustion first by giving him rest and refreshment.

Then He asked him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Note that when Elijah answered God, he magnified the problem and minimized the good. Isn’t that what we tend to do when we’re exhausted and overwhelmed?

Then God gently corrected him, instructed him to return to his ministry, and gave him a helper.

Notice what God didn’t do:

  • He didn’t desert him.
  • He didn’t chastise him for lack of faith.
  • He didn’t tell him to man up.
  • He didn’t preach a sermon.
  • He didn’t tell him that things weren’t as bad as he thought, that he had a lot to be thankful for, that he should be ashamed of himself . . . yadda, yadda, yadda.
  • He didn’t release him from his calling.

What God did do was nourish him, sustain him, counsel him, and instruct him.

Just as God met Elijah at his point of deepest need, He’ll meet you at yours.

What are you running from? Who are you running to?

Where is your Mount Horeb?

Thank You, loving God, for meeting me at my point of deepest need. Amen.

Read and meditate on 1 Kings 19:1–18.

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.