In life, sometimes we use analogies to paint a better picture of what we are describing. Sometimes though, an analogy can lose a little in the translation.
I heard one example of this from our church’s youth pastor, Daniel Meadows. He mentioned that one of his favorite songs was Todd Agnew’s ”Grace Like Rain”. He said that in Portland, we never could really appreciate the song because our usual Portland rain varies from an irritating mist to a light drizzle that goes on for hours and hours. You could get from your house to your car and stay fairly dry, since the rain was so light. However, the previous day, we had a rainstorm that was unique for our area. It was as if the skies had opened up and let loose everything they held. No wind, no lightning – just a solid, steady, heavy downpour that sent rivers of water racing down the street. There was no way you could set foot outside of the house without feeling the water drench you. Daniel said that this storm was a little more like the ones he had grown up in the Midwest. With that experience, the phrase “Grace Like Rain” took on a different meaning; it describes the grace of God as something you cannot avoid, something that covers you fully. His description brought that analogy to life for me in a whole new way.
I had a new realization of an analogy used by God himself while vacationing this week in Central Oregon. We were camping at Prineville Reservoir for a couple of days. As we arrived in Prineville, we noticed that the moon was going to be setting not long after the sun, leaving the skies dark. Living in a major metropolitan city of over a million people, the light from the city hides the view of all but the brightest stars. We looked forward to being able to see a much bigger picture of God’s creation once the sun went down.
Later that night, we were rewarded with one of the most amazing night skies I had ever seen. I tried to come up with a guess of how many stars I could see plainly enough to count, but it was simply too much for the mind to conjure up. Add to that the mist of white scattered across the sky – the stars that are too small to count, but together make up the Milky Way. My family and I stood outside, just staring up at the sky in amazement.
It was then that I recalled Genesis 22:17-18, where God promises Abraham, “I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me." Now, if Abraham were living in Portland, that might not have made such a huge impression on him. When the clouds aren’t covering the sky, we might be lucky to see a dozen or two stars. Back in his day, there was no light pollution to filter God’s promise through. When God spoke, Abraham could look up and see that same sky filled with millions of stars. If I were him, the thought of being the patriarch for millions might be a tad bit intimidating. Seeing the night sky through his eyes reminded me of God’s love and faithfulness, and that God’s promises are true, even when we can’t see the whole picture.
