The tank says “5 miles to E” as I pull onto the gravel at Osier’s, a single pump gas station on the island and the only one within 15 miles of the house. Deflated by that last-day-of-vacation feeling, I kick the door open and circle round to a taped piece of paper scrawled in all caps:
NO GAS. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.
Great. Great. Great. This was supposed to be a 5-minute quick fill-up and back to the house. I don’t even have a phone. What if I run out of gas? What if I putter to a stop in the middle of nowhere Maine?
Forget it. I punch it, making a beeline for the next closest station further inland. A twenty-minute drive.
I watch the gauge dwindle as my adrenaline begins to rise. Summer vacation had not gone according to plan, and of course, this is how it would end.
It was supposed to be work-free. Restful. Days on the boat, nights of pleasure reading. Instead, the anxiety of unfinished school business had pressed into every corner of my time. A student had withdrawn. Huge matters were still unresolved at the city and state level. We could return to find out we wouldn’t even be allowed to have school at all.
Oh, and did I mention that my phone died on the second day of vacation? I’m delayed in getting home because mail is slow on the coast of Maine: my new phone is four days late. All these fires back home, and I can’t even leave to deal with them.
And when I inevitably run out of gas, I won’t have a way to call someone to come pick me up either. Fantastic.
I feel completely cornered. God, just give me something. I can’t sink much lower. I need to know things are going to turn around.
I’m like the Greeks with their backs to the open ocean, hard-pressed by flashing Hector and his swelling army. I’ve been reading The Iliad again, and Agamemnon’s desperate prayer to Zeus feels familiar—“Don’t let these Trojans mow us down in droves!” Filled with pity, Zeus had sent a sure sign in the sky that the tides would turn: An eagle clutching a fawn.
Call it sacrilege, call it syncretism—I call it desperation. I pray, God, I need an eagle. Send me a sign that the tides will turn.
Well, I make it to the gas station for starters. And as I’m pumping, I think—the phone. It has been a frustrating ordeal with delays and delays. Maybe the Lord could just send the phone. In fact, maybe it’ll be there when I get back.
The tension starts to loosen. I become certain: It’s going to be there. I zoom home, take the deck stairs two at a time, head into the kitchen and . . . nothing. No package.
I begin to help with dinner. 6:00pm. 6:34pm. 7:05pm. As the sun sets, so does my hope—disappointed about my unanswered plea and the prospect of having to delay the trip home yet another day waiting for delivery.
A little before 8 o’clock, my daughter wanders in: “A package for you, Daddy.”
“But as for me, my prayer is to you, O Lord.
At an acceptable time, O God,
in the abundance of your steadfast love
answer me in your saving faithfulness.”
—Psalm 69:13
You can’t always read Providence in the moment. There could have been no significance to that little omen. But my prayer had been answered that night. And here’s what happened the week after I returned from vacation:
The school got its zoning finalized at City Hall, its certificate of occupancy, and its registration as a private school with the PA Department of Ed all within a 24-hour period. We also got news of $20,000 in donations.
When I was defeated, hopeless, and pressed against the ships, I cried, “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck!” (Ps 16:1) And the Lord sent me an eagle to assure me that the tides would turn—a little brown box on the wings of a late FedEx delivery truck.
Send an “Eagle” to The Oaks!
I don’t ask much of my readers—the vast majority of you enjoy the weekly content free of charge.
Perhaps you’d like an opportunity to send some more hope my way. As we look toward September 2 and our first official day at The Oaks Academy, you can send us something from our Amazon wishlist as a way of saying, “We’re with you! We wish you well! We are praying for the Lord’s kindness and favor!”
It would be great to have the school’s mailbox filled with little “eagles” of hope sent from friends who love us and what we are trying to build for Washington, PA. Here’s the link:
If you’d like to give toward our effort, we’d love to have you as a partner in bringing Christian education to Western PA:
Share this post