Puncturing the heat dome

There are 180 men in a blacktopped, cinderblock prison in the Michigan facility I am in communication with.

Two days ago, my friend David overheard two of his cellies talking about the heat, one of them a Muslim just finishing his formal prayers. David was moved to pray in their presence, asking God for a breeze. Within a half hour, the sky darkened and a cool finger of air came wafting through the concertina wire.

I thought about that afterward. A mocker or scoffer would say, "Well, if God can bring a short breeze, why don't you ask Him to lift these dog days altogether?" What would I say to that? I think I would say that we know from Scripture that this present life is a veil of suffering, and suffering is the means by which God sanctifies-we should not wish it away entirely. We live, as the Israelites did, in a testing wilderness. The soothing breeze that kicks up unexpectedly is to be regarded as streams in the wilderness.

I remembered Jonah and the little plant the Lord raised up for him. If you are going to cavil that God sent a mere puff of solace to Michigan and not an endless Eden, you may as well cavil about his show of kindness to Jonah too. After all, the plant that shaded him was but a very temporary respite from the oppressive heat. But God measures out relief judiciously, as He sees fit.

In an update from Michigan, David called yesterday and said that after consideration he was emboldened to ask the Lord for a second break from the heat. It was against all the best wisdom of the meteorologists, who were predicting a high of 104 degrees. To the confounding of all, the temperature, as I wrote this Wednesday morning, had dropped to the 70s, and the men were walking around like men who dream, talking about this strange weather we're having.

All of which made David wonder about the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night that followed our forefathers in the dessert. Is it possible that in addition to representing the presence of God, the cloud was a shield from the scorching desert sun, just as clouds are for us? And was the torch a source of heat and comfort in the chilly desert nights?