Pervading Storms

Storms upon the horizon. That has been my life this year: a never-ending tide of tribulations with only the briefest glint of sunlight between… or sometimes not at all.

The hardest part was that I knew they were coming. I could see the breakers upon the horizon as clearly a captain feels waves beneath the hull. Yet knowing a storm lies ahead doesn’t mean you can maneuver enough to evade them. The boat only turns so fast, especially if the motor goes out.

So, you brace yourself. You tie down the masts and draw in the sails. You drag the life jackets out and fasten all the doors, windows, and hatches. Then you hold on.

Yet no matter how much you prepare, the force can still surprise you. It can wrest the breath from your lungs and toss you overboard.

The speed and strength of those waves are hard to predict and so often leave devastation in their wake. They turn the world upside-down and leave you wondering which way is where. I’ve had one of those waves overtake me and I wanted to run when it first appeared. But you can’t outrun a storm most times and this one was no exception.

I’m still reeling from it. I can’t see an end to the dark sky yet. It feels like I’m treading water and the boat is only getting farther from me. Even though there’s a rope lashing me to its rail, I’m being tossed about like a plastic bag on the wind. My whole family is being tossed about and there is no end in sight.

Times like this are hard to deal with because they make everything else in life much more challenging. Even the normal day to day things intensify. It becomes harder to focus, takes longer to get things done, and the exhaustion is so much greater. The energy to enjoy something disappears along with the desire to even try for it. Days become routine except for the constant reminder of thunder that booms overhead and the lightening that flashes across the sky.

I don’t know when this storm will end. But because I knew it was coming it seems like I’ve been living in it longer than I have. Time is odd like that. And now I’m in the water and all I can feel is the pain of cold.

But there’s still a rope.

That’s what I have to keep telling myself – that there’s a rope and life preserver I’m clinging too. There’s someone at the other end that is holding on and preventing me from slipping away. I can’t see who it is because of the swirling rain, but I know that God is near. I know He’s in the midst of the storm and that Jesus is at my side. He dived into the water after me and is holding onto my hand even as my grip slips free.

That’s why I have to keep reminding myself there’s still a rope. Because if I don’t, I’ll lose sight of the rope itself and only see and feel the waves and wind. Until the storm has past I need to repeat over and over again that daylight will return.

But weathering such storms are not just about “hanging on” because there really are those that brave the storm with us. God is always there, I believe that, but at times it is only through the interaction of another human being that His presence can really be seen and heard. They are the buoys – my friends – the family I have turned to that are praying and holding the situation up to God. They are a true gift, and even though it often feel like it, I am not alone.

I pray that you have those buoys that keep your head up in the storm too, people that are there to reach for you even when you can’t reach for them. But more than that, I pray you have the assurance of Christ with you as you face whatever storms have swept you out to sea because we all have them. If not reach out and grab the chain of arms that can link us together to The Lifeline. Because we all need a hand to weather the storms.