Anniversary of a Storm

This time one year ago, we were not-so-cautiously emerging from the hallway fort where we'd huddled during the worst of Charlie, listening to the eerie howling of the wind and the thud and tumble of oak branches on our roof. Scott recklessly picked his way through the backyard and over the fence to see what had become of the boat (I hung back, nervously training a battery-powered lantern on him), but all we could see was debris. In the next hour, shouting in the street and the buzz of chainsaws alerted us that neighbors were about, cutting an opening for one man to drive his truck through and check on his animals. I don't know how he got through; the next day we found the main road still blocked by fallen trees in both directions. The whole scene was bizarre, surreal, and yet oddly novel, so for the first two days I took photos and wonderingly documented the experience.

The next three weeks felt like being disconnected from the World. The Olympics came and went. By the time our phone, internet and cable services were restored, even the news stories and t.v. documentaries on the storm had played out. It was like we'd lived the last three weeks in an alternate dimension, the rest of the world going on around us while we struggled with cleaning up and getting back to "normal".

So when they announced that Frances was coming, I sank into a dread that deepened into depression over the five excruciatingly long days it took for the storm to arrive. It was slow torture; I cried BRING IT ON! echoing the sentiments scrawled and spray-painted on so many boarded up windows. One night, on the way home from a canned goods run, I was thinking, "I can't do it again" when we drove past the little neighborhood church. The marquee read, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

Three weeks later came Hurricane Jeanne. But somewhere between Frances and Jeanne, I experienced a shift. Here's what I typed in my journal while I waited for the storm to arrive:

I am very distressed by the writings of people saying that the storms are the wrath of God on believers for our sin and hypocrisy. Perhaps this is true; perhaps it is the lesson that they are learning. Everything that happens is an opportunity to grow and learn; but I believe God can use the same events to teach people differently, meeting them at the place they need to grow.

When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Instead of seeing the storms as God’s wrath, what if we saw the many ways he has spared and protected us as his favor? What if we could thank him for the things we learned about ourselves, about him and others in crises? What if we praised him for his faithfulness throughout? Here are some things I’ve learned.

Hurricane Charley took me by surprise. Frances paralyzed me, because I had experienced the disruption, disorientation and disconnection resulting from Charley and feared what could be in store. Had the storms stopped then, I would not have learned my greatest lessons and experienced the peace that I have now, even in the midst of anxious anticipation of Jeanne. Fear and depression would have been my model for anticipating future storms. Awaiting Jeanne, I learned a new model of peaceful preparation that will be how I approach future storms (and I hope all crises in my life). I have learned that I am stronger than I think.

#1: It’s Not About Me
I’ve realized that it’s not about me: the storm is not coming to get me, punish me, ruin my business and disrupt my life. It would come whether I lived here or not! The world does not revolve around me or have me at the center of its intent. Even when it feels like it!

(Job didn’t suffer b/c God questioned his faith; he suffered b/c the devil did! Job learned from it… but the cause was NOT about him!)

#2: The Earth Is the Lord’s and Everything In It
God made the earth. He created it in all its intricate, sophisticated detail. Even the weather is organized according to scientific systems and patterns he ordained. Yes, God can supernaturally intervene to cause or calm storms. But suppose this is simply the weather behaving according to its brilliant design. Do I question the sovereignty and judgment of the one who designed it? If all weather is the sign of God’s pleasure or anger, then he must have mood swings every day! Remember #1: everything is not about me.

#3: Whether I Live or Die, I Am the Lord’s
My well-being does not depend on the weather. It does not depend on how well my business recovers in the wake of three storms. At the essential level, nothing has changed. God hasn’t changed, who I am hasn’t changed, nothing truly important has changed. When I look at it closely, even my circumstances have essentially not changed. This realization gives me peace, even joy (as I began writing this, I was bopping around doing hurricane prep chores to praise music). I have a strong center, a rock. My well-being does not depend on how I feel… in fact, it doesn’t even depend on whether I live or die!

So, for me these hurricanes were a wake-up call and a lesson… but not the punishment of a vindictive God. I don’t fear him for them; I’ve had it out like Job and I love him for it.

My theme song was "I get knocked down / but I get up again / they're never gonna keep me down!" And if nothing else, I'm now experienced in using a chainsaw (although Scott has to start it for me) and cooking on the grill (we even baked cookies!)!