Inspired by Genesis 8:1-4
I fell hard last week.
After sitting in a library, trying to help a little boy with his homework and losing patience, we got up to go to his next destination. The rain was steady all day. We made it to the library doors safely, through the showers, when we arrived. By the time we left, the rain had picked up, along with my frustration with my job. All I could think about was making the day end quickly. So, I told the little boy we were going to make a run for it. His youthful excitement carried him halfway to the car. My frustration landed me in a deep puddle and on the wet concrete.
I couldn’t move for at least 10 seconds. Questions raced through my head.
“Really, God,” my soul yelled in my ear? “On top of everything else, this has to happen?”
The pain began to surge through my joints while large raindrops fell hard on my back. I could hear the little boy asking if I was ok. It was enough to bring me out of my inner rant and back to reality. Blood trickled from wounds on both hands and knees as I got up and limped my way to the car. I drove through the storm to his martial arts lesson. Thankfully, his instructor saw I was in pain and dismissed the little boy early. Again, I drove through the storm to get him home.
Home for me, was still a couple of stops away. I was in too much pain to cook for myself. Also, there were no band-aids in my medicine cabinet. If I was going to eat and take care of these wounds, I would have to go to a drug store as well as pick up some food from somewhere. There was no one to turn for help and it made me angry. Exhaustion kicked in as I sat in the restaurant parking lot. I felt so alone.
The Eye of the Storm
I grew up in North Charleston, South Carolina where hurricanes hit hard. The most deceptive part of the storm is its eye. It is the center of the circular mass that looks like a blank hole in radar. After the massive winds and rain pounding the land, there is a very quiet calm. Everything is still. People come out to look at the damage and check on each other. But after a while, you can hear a faint whistle in the air. You may feel a drop or two. And you realize, the winds are picking up again. The second half of the storm has come, usually harder than the first.
I feel like I have been in a hurricane season that has lasted for at least 15 years. God told me I would never work another regular, full-time job after losing my well paying management position in 2008. Initially, I was excited. Clearly, this meant he was going to take me into my entertainment dreams and his vision for my life. Instead, the storms began. Winds blew homelessness and financial struggle through a seemingly secure lifestyle. Disappointment and discouragement rained ferociously on my thoughts almost every day. There have been times when I thought the storm was over. Roles came my way. I published a book. Bills were finally being paid on time. But these glimmers of sunshine never lasted. It was always just the eye of the storm.
One of my fondest childhood memories is going through Hurricane Hugo on the night of September 21, 1989. I remember how calm my Mama and Stepdaddy were as I cuddled with them in the bed. At first, I thought I was strong enough to sleep in my own room. But a huge crack of thunder sent me running across the hall. The windows rattled so loud in the midst of the 140mph winds. We could hear shingles being torn off the roof. The storm was destroying my world outside. But inside, I slept peacefully between the two people who loved me more than my adolescent heart could fathom.
Rest in the Storm
The storms of life have been rough. Sometimes, it feels like they will never end. But Hurricane Hugo ended on September 22, 1989. I have to remember how I made it through that scary night. Instead of trying to get through it on my own, I ran to the arms I knew would take care of me and protect me. That’s what I have to do now.
This storm will end. I just have to trust the arms of the one who takes care of me. He will protect me through the storm. And until it’s over, I can rest peacefully, knowing that I’m safe in the arms of the one who loves me more than I can fathom.