Freight Train

I used to work at a radio studio where the only way in was across a railroad track. That particular line frequently had trains stop, blocking access. So, when someone needed to get to work, or someone was leaving, many times a mile-long freight train had stopped. That mean we either had to wait (which could be an hour) or hike down the track to whichever end of the train we guessed might be closer (couldn’t see either end). Some chose to climb through or under. Can you say “foolish?” Good! I knew you could. A memo was issued. “Don’t do that.” Okay, I shortened that a bit. You get the idea. One day I was waiting, looking at that train, wondering if I should climb through. I’d been working from midnight until 6a, was tired, wanted to get home and sleep. And I thought. I heard a series of clunking noises from waaaaaay to my left, getting closer. The train’s engine had started up, and was taking the slack out of the train. One car after another was pulled to take the slack out of the linkages. It took about four seconds to get to where I stood contemplating. And the train car right in front of me leaped ahead by six feet in the blink of an eye. The clunking continued for another four seconds, receding to my right. That’s how long it took. It could have killed me. I see reverential fear of God like that freight train. When it’s sitting there in front of you, doing nothing, it looks kinda cool. You can walk up to it, put your hand on it, and admire the awesomeness. But if it’s in the way, you’re kinda ticked off. You want to go around it. Climb through. But when it moves, it’s the most frightening thing on Earth. I can tell you, when that freight train keeping me away from my ride home started up, I stepped back. And I took more than one step. When God moves, take a step or five back and assess what’s going on. If He’s blocking you from what you want, accept it. You climb through at your own peril.