We really shouldn’t complain…
Though it was one of the more frightening evenings we’ve shared, in a long time…crowding our five young ones in a stairwell closet, praying for the oldest, out of the home and coaching a soccer game…watching that hard, black line of clouds approaching with the fury of rising winds, rumbling thunder and flashing lightning, listening to the rising chorus of tornado sirens from three small communities in the path of what may or may not have been a tornado…we quickly cleared out that closet full of winter coats and boxes of Christmas decorations to put as many walls as possible between our five and that storm.
The youngest children, worried, crying…encouraged by older brothers to sing “Regina Caeli” and pray…we listened to their muffled voices and watched, anxiously as the storm peaked…
My husband stepped outside to assess the situation. A split second later, we saw it. I’m not sure what it was. Call it a “wall of storm.” Not rain…just a wall of wind. In a flash, my dear husband was on the porch, and then in the door.
The wind…this wall of wind, in a flash flattened our wooden swingset, snapped one of our cherry trees and blew the glass out of the storm door. Just…that…fast.
The wind raged, the rain fell, we prayed…and the children, shaken and unharmed emerged hot and sweaty from the closet.
And that was it. A few pieces of siding rippling in the wind, trees snapped and branches down, a playset destroyed and a window broken…but that’s all.
we are unharmed.
we are okay.
we suffered nothing. nothing. nothing…much and yet the children are still so fearful that this storm is still out there…circling…waiting to come back. They’ve seen the scrolling weather alerts and have surveyed and cataloged their loss. Daddy will replace the splintered wood and twisted metal, and sweet little Rylee, on her birthday yesterday, ticked off each item that would need to be repaired. She trusts her Daddy…but not the weather.
Because they’ve seen what a storm, a tornado can do. They’ve prayed with us for the families in Joplin and for those in Oklahoma…for all those who have suffered devastation and loss.
Yes. We are unharmed and our gratitude soars as we realize that so many…so very many have lost so very much. More than we can imagine…
Tonight, two of the youngers have struggled to find sleep amidst the warnings and flashing lightning, the occasional crash of thunder and the hard-hitting rain upon glass…it takes a good deal of faith to lie down and close your eyes in the midst of the storm…
But Jesus did.
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. 37And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. 38But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” Mark 4:35-40
He has felt the fury of the storm and is ready to calm all our fears. For He is calm. Thank you, Lord…You are perfect peace…You are our calm.
Tonight we will be still and rest in You…