What was I doing up there, hot choc and camping chair in hand? I was perusing the time-honoured tradition known as “throwing my toys in spectacular fashion”. You see, my Bride and I have been wrestling with God about some really important matters, the kind that has life changing consequence as a by-product. I had no issue with the wrestling part. That prize went to the Responses. I found them somewhat, (let me be very careful here), unimpressive. Maybe God was occupied with other stuff. Whatever it was, He clearly needed me to volley through some reminders, just a little bit of gentle persuasion, (there is after all Biblical precedence for reminding God about stuff).

So the toys were flying. The tossing of said toys gained velocity and penetration as my throwing arm warmed up. I was in great form. It was at the height of this tirade that I saw a plane in the distance. The time of night, angle of approach and size of the craft convinced me that it could possibly be a Boeing 737-300, (or 400) from Joburg, and that’s when the voice of God came through loud and long by way of the Devine Klap. (For those abroad, or who have forgotten how to speak Afrikaans, a klap [kl-up], is a lovingly gentle connection between the cup of the hand to the back of the head, used ever so effectively in matters of persuasion. This is often followed by a good sulk by way of the one owning the head). The klaps were in the form of questions that, when answered, left you with the title deed to being the opposite of proud.

How many people on this Earth have ever seen an aircraft and knew what it was? (And I was in a minority category who could answer in the affirmative). How many people who knew what an aircraft was, have ever flown in one? (And I was transferred into an even smaller group in said minority category who could answer in the affirmative). How many jetsetters know where the emergency exit seats are (longer leg room)? (Dropped down to an even smaller minority). How many have actually piloted an aircraft on more than one occasion? (Yip, I was a member of a minuscule minority). And you think you have the right to throw your toys at Me about “stuff”. And immediately I knew the squirmy feeling that Job must have gone through after he threw his toys and God had to have his little “chat” with him…

There’s so much about Me that people have not seen or experienced. How will they know I AM good unless they hear and experience your story? How will they know how to fly in my Grace unless they see My story. How will they know where the “exit seats” of Mercy are unless they experience My character through your story. How many are missing the plane?

At that moment, I felt compelled to be silent, to sheath my throwing arm and put my toys back in the box, all the while realising that my story is really His Story, alive in me. So that’s what Peter and the boys meant when they said, “We cannot stop telling about the wonderful things we saw Jesus do and heard Him say” (Acts 4:20 Living Bible). So there I was, on the roof of the church building, being reminded of HIStory…