Shelter

For in the day of trouble
He will keep me safe in his dwelling;
He will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent (Psalm 27:5).

The skinny man who boarded the bus asked Laurence for a seat as he shivered uncontrollably, a cigarette and drool dripping from his mouth. I really didn’t want to be left sitting with him, so instead, I hopped up and offered him my seat beside Laurence. He took it.

“Why don’t you button your coat?” I asked from where I stood. He complied by slowly setting his Popeye’s soda on the floor. With his shaky hands, he tried closing his jacket buttons. I could see he was not going to be successful and leaned over to close them for him. He needed shelter.

And so did we. A couple hours later, after filling up on soup, dumplings, and Armenian pastries made with walnuts and red raisins, we walked to the bus stop. The cold temperature, along with the wind blowing off the sea, penetrated right through our layers of clothing. We moved around the corner to stand against what was once a restaurant, but now appeared to be under renovation. We hovered by the wall, the wind pressing against us.

I reached behind me – a strange gesture – and tried the door handle of the building, expecting it to be locked. To my surprise, it opened, and we stepped into the shelter. Warmth washed over us. The wind no longer raged. While watching through the open door for the bus, we looked around. The power tools, a ladder, and other valuables would be worth stealing, and any NYC street smart person would know to lock the door, or it would all quickly disappear.

We saw the lights of the Q53 bus approaching. Laurence pulled shut the door, and we dashed into the wind. I cannot prove to you, but I believe the door locked. God gave us shelter from the wind and cold that we might know we can trust Him in the storms of life.

Berniece