Out of the Wind

I love the deep, rhythmic sound of a windmill turning in the wind. I love watching when the wind is slight and the blades have not decided if they are willing to turn - the lazy back-and-forth motion and the creaks of metal against metal. I love it when the flower-like shape disappears into a circular blur as the wind comes sweeping down the plain. I love the majestic silhouette of a windmill tower standing like a silent sentinel overlooking the prairie. Add a miraculous sunset behind it and I'm transported back in time by nostalgia.

I fell in love with Windmills when I lived in Spearman, Texas. A tiny town in the high plains of Texas characterized by farmers and ranchers. It is near one of the great battles of the West, it was a town that had to relocate when the train tracks passed its location. As I rode with my men bringing in cattle, I realized that it was not the calvary, nor the railroad, that "settled" the West, but the windmill. Without drawing up the life-giving water from the Ogalala Aquifer, no one could survive the high plains of Texas. The wildfires this week, the largest in Texas history, give evidence of the dangers of the dry prairie grass and the desperate need for water.

Several years ago, my pastor's retreat moved to a location in the hill country. The Austin stone structures are designed to mimic the style of the area. It looks old but is very new. Outside the main building is a beautiful lake adorned with a windmill. I have several pictures of it from past trips. It is a pastoral image in my mind.

This year, I arrived late on Sunday night. It was pitch dark. The next morning, I stepped out on the porch with my camera searching for the exotics that sprinkle the landscape. Then I saw the wreckage. The rotor, gearbox, and the tail, the whole head of the windmill had come crashing to the ground. The twisted deformed metal made me sad. I wanted to rush over to it and comfort it. It looks like a lost cause. The wind blows against it, but there is no responsive dance. Now only the weeds growing around it respond.

We all need the wind. The Bible says that the Spirit blows like the wind. If we stay in the wind, then the living water is lifted into our hearts, souls, and minds. If we stay in the wind we give evidence of it, because people can't see the wind, just the things the wind touches. Too many people have gotten stuck. The wreckage of some storm that passed over them twisted them to the ground. It feels permanent. I'm glad nothing is impossible for God. He is a restorer. He rebuilds things. If we ask Him, he will tenderly lift us up and place us back in the place to receive again. If we would just spread ourselves before God he would move us by his grace.