The Whistle and the Cloud

Although I grew up as a military brat, I did not grow up in a military atmosphere.  I did live on an Air Force Base the first several years of my life, however, I did not live in a military atmosphere.  The school I went to was not 'military acting', even though it was only military kids.  I don't recall any kind of 'boot camp experience' among my little playmates.   I was also blessed not to come up in a 'military' home.  My dad was overseas in my early years once or twice for extended times, but when he was home, he was not militaristic in his method of fatherhood.    He was not some overzealous drill sergeant to us as boys.  He was far from it.  I was whipped a few times, but probably not near enough.  My dad had a stronger weapon- the whistle.  No, he did not beat me over the head with a plastic whistle or swing it around like a whip.  He did not even use a whistle.  He is a whistle...a loud one.  That was always our call to come home.  He had a distinct whistle.  No, redneck hollering like most do.  Just one deadly whistle.  He has dislodged his own teeth with the might of the windforces coming from his larynyx.  (Not really...at least not that he has actually admitted.)  However, not only was his whistle loud, it was authoritative.  When he whistled, I ran.  There was no hesitation.  Why?  Well, I honestly never remember being reprimanded, whipped, or threatened for not coming when he whistled.  I just remember coming home.  I have thought about it in hindsight and wondered how it was so effective.  After much thought, I know why it was so effective...it came from my dad.  Dad wanted me home.  If he didn't want me home, I would not have come instantly....but I did.  I had fear of the second whistle coming.  It was about as effective as the tardy bell at school, and nobody wants to be caught in a sprint during the....Tardy Bell!!!!!  Again, the only reason I was afraid was simply because he was my Dad.  The fear was a respect, not a terror.  He wanted me home and when he wanted me home, I wanted to be home.  I needed to be home.  It was time to go home.  Why? 'Cause Dad whistled so, that's why. 
I thought about Dad's whistle, when I read about God's cloud over the community of his followers.  Notice how they responded (www.lifejournal.cc): Whether it was two days, or a month, or a longer time, that the cloud continued over the tabernacle, abiding there, the people of Israel remained in camp and did not set out, but when it lifted they set out. -Numbers 9:22.  When it lifted, they set out because God wanted them to move.  When Dad whistled, I set out because Dad wanted me home.  May I...may you...may we respond as quickly to the leadership of the Lord everyday as I did to a whistle and as they did to a cloud.  Follow His Lead today!!