I understand why old people watch the weather channel.
For I have become one of them.
Maybe it’s those bright colors swirling across the map. Or the eye-catching arrows and graphics. Or it could be the drama of watching a raincoat-clad correspondent, standing knee-deep in crashing ocean waves just to bring us the storm story. Whatever it is, I’m hooked!
In my father’s day, folks predicted the coming weather by reading the signs in nature—the color of the sky or the way the leaves flipped on their branches. “Smells like rain,” Dad would say. Or “That sky looks like snow.”
Once folks determined a storm was imminent, they prepared as best they could, stocking up on necessities, moving animals to safety, planning rain dates in summer, canceling school in winter.
But there was nothing they could do to stop what was coming.
Nowadays we’re better at preparing. We can evacuate and batten down the hatches in record time. High-speed internet and 4G networks, let us spread warnings far and wide. Local agencies provide shelters and food and medical care.
But there is nothing we can do to stop what’s coming.
In spite of the Doppler radar, we’re sometimes caught off guard. A few weeks back here in Hudson, what we thought was a typical thunderstorm quickly developed tornadic winds. Frightened people cowered in basements. The hail damaged my neighbor’s car and the siding on my sister’s house. The wind brought down power lines and branches—which, in turn, closed roads. The flag pole in front of my mother’s nursing home snapped in half. We lost some of the oldest trees in our city.
Since we were left without electric, cable, and internet, I hopped in my car to listen to the radio, charge my iPhone, and pump up the air conditioning. I drove around and took pictures, amazed at the damage. What kind of power had been unleashed on us?
I immediately thought of another storm, another time, another group of frightened people. And a Man who could do more than merely warn of the storm to come.
When all was almost lost, He faced the storm head on and spoke the words that muzzled it.
“Peace, be still.”
Our Lord has that power today. Though the storms rage around me . . .
- He keeps me from shaking in my shoes.
- He gives me confidence to step out of the boat.
- He reassures my fearful heart.
For all who feel helpless in the path of a storm, especially those facing Hurricane Isaac, remember,
“Be still, dear souls. The waves and winds still know His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.”
This week I’m linking up with Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday, Soli Deo Gloria, Playdates with God, Monday Musings, Just Write, Teach Me Tuesdays, God Bumps, Gratituesday, We Encourage, Living Well Wednesday, Thought-provoking Thursday, Beholding Glory, Your Thriving Family, Spiritual Sunday, and Always Alleluia.