IN    A    COVEIn a cove, the quiet resounded.  In a cove, the wind calmed.  In a cove, the waves subsided.  In a cove, a heart reached out to God.

Long ago, many years past, sat a boy in tears awash.  Fist in hand, with words unspoken, he screamed a pain of spirit.  Bleeding from thistles and thorns, his weary legs could run no further.  Far had they carried him.  Far longer than he had thought.  Out of the danger had he run.  Over the forested dune and beyond the farthest trail, passed the shaded rocks and down the steepest banks.  His heart the trophy, his spirit the runner, his body the track, and together he ran an event of escape.

So quickly had the fire come upon him.  The smell of smoke a first warning, while underneath the summer sun he played in the meadow as he had yesterday and many days before.  Then with a burst of lightening and a thundering crash, the flames reached out to him from the rolled edge of the meadow, below him, at the foot of the hill.  “Daddy!”  “Mommy!”, he cried out.  But it was a silent cry beyond the on-coming roar.  “Mommy!”  “Daddy!”, but now his cry was silent to even his own ears.  “Help!”  “Mommy!”  “Help!”, a cry unheard beyond his lips.  The wind blew warm on his small innocent face as he peered toward the way home.  Standing, frozen, unable to feel his feet in the softness of the soil which seconds ago was pouring between toes playing so care-free, he looked to the trail, now blocked by a giant flame with arms of death that lashed out at him.  Ashes burned at his eyes, and his tears were dried as they formed.  The blaze of wind now rushing at him with unbearable heat.

“Run!”, the flames screamed.  “Run!”, into his ears came the order.  “Run!”  Was this a call for him, or were the on-rushing flames being commanded to overrun him as soldiers by a General?  Was a Commander giving directions like he played in his meadow, charging toward an imaginary foe and yelling “charge” to an imaginary army?  “Run!”, he heard the command.  “Run!”, he heard it again.  Then as a mighty gust of wind struck him, he was turned, and like the lashing by the tail from a fleeing horse, he was whipped, and the boy ran from the fire.  Over the top of the hill the wind pushed him, lifting him from the meadow and out of his playground.  Down the other side he ran, cascading over the top and down as if caught in a great waterfall.  Into the forest never entered before he ran without hesitation, without looking behind.  The boy ran and ran and ran.  Carried without strength, guided without understanding, shown the way with eyes closed, and somehow held while being alone, he ran and ran.  Then to water’s edge he came.  Upon impassable water he stopped.  His way was blocked.  He could go no further.  He had come into a cove.  Once again, standing, frozen, unable to move, the boy collapsed, falling upon himself.  Gripped within his own grasp, fetal, unborn, crying for the comfort of his mother’s womb, a whimpering voice was heard, “Mommy!”  Then again, repeated, a sound so familiar, “Mommy.”  Was the wind crying out?  Then again he heard the sound, but this was from his own mouth, he was hearing himself speak comfort which he so desired, “Mommy”.  Then it was quiet.  Leaves rustled atop the huge trees.  Water rippled over his beaten feet.  A bird bathed close by, splashing and flapping its wings at the water.  No other sounds were heard.  There was no charging fire, there was no thunderous attack.  There was no torch blowing upon his back, there was only a cove, peaceful, undisturbed, safe and secure.

Over the years, the pictures of long ago have faded from the mind, but the cove remains true and unchanged.  Year after year, I have returned to the place I first encountered God.  It was God who sent me running from the fire that day.  It was God that directed the flames to turn from me.  It was God that guided me as I ran, unaware of my path.  It was God that created my shelter, my place of protection, the waters in a cove.  It was God that brought Mommy and Daddy to find me, and it was God that saved us from those flames.  Every year that I am able to return to this place, I thank God for bringing me here.  I came here when I asked Jesus into my heart, and accepted Him as my personal Savior.  I brought my wife here and shared my story with her soon after we were married.  I brought my children here, and told them how God saved me, and now with my Grandson in my lap, I can once again tell how God saved my life in a cove.

Thank you Lord for this cove.  Thank you for bringing me to this place where I found You.  Thank you Lord for Your refuge,  for being who You are, and loving me.  Thank you Lord for hearing my prayer in a cove.




In A Cove by Ronhales                                                                                                                              2 Samuel 22:3

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