"Good morning everyone," the TV announcer
said. "Let me correct that. There is nothing good about this morning of
September 26, 2004."
Trying to maintain composure, we tracked the
path of Hurricane Frances. At first, the action outside was not much
different than the usual storms in Florida. But we knew that this was no
ordinary storm. It was a preamble of a dangerous hurricane....
"Everyone grab a pillow and a blanket," I
said. I made a mental note of the supplies we would need: a flashlight,
water and our cell phones. Grabbing the small transistor radio with
fresh batteries; a bit of reassurance trickled in while huddled in our
confined shelter.
As expected, the lights went out. The TV was
silenced. In the dark, the rage of the hurricane became more audible. As
the wind howled, it whistled as if to announce, "I've arrived." Its
ominous nature intensified our vulnerability.
Frances had a vicious and unique personality.
It was capricious. First, giving the impression it was headed in one
direction and then at the last minute, changing directions. It had its
own madness as it ripped through neighborhoods mercilessly.
"Hush!" I ordered. I turned the volume up on
the transistor radio I held on my lap. "Listen!" I added with urgency.
Our family huddled, attempting to tune out the
loud roaring outside. We hung on each word coming from the radio, the
only device connecting us to the outside world: "It's headed for
Orlando, the winds here are unbelievable. With the last moments of
daylight, we could see the roaring winds snapping trees in half like
pretzel sticks. In other areas, the trees were yanked with force, their
roots entangled in blocks of cement tossed aside like toys. Some static
interrupted his description. Then he continued trying to catch his
breath: "The huge glass windows of buildings nearby moved in and out in
a swaying motion, attempting to resist the fierce wind with no success."
"Lord," I cried out in my thoughts, "guard our
family."
Then the serenity of my prayers was
interrupted with more reports. I appeared calm on the outside, but with
every sound outside and every detail of the report, I wondered if God
was indeed listening. I questioned whether He'd answer before the worst
happened. I doubted if my words were appropriate enough to reach Him.
And I was certain that my emotions were blocking my pleas to Him. The
more I tried, the more the hurricane of doubt thrashed in my heart.
"Now the road is in total darkness," the
reporter said. "Even some traffic lights are gone."
Without air-conditioning, our cozy area turned
into a small oven. But safety replaced comfort. Frances' rage grew
closer. The strong winds thrust sporadic bangs, rattling our garage
door. The hurling debris against our front and back doors as well as
those slamming against the large windows gave the same sensation as a
"tic…tic…tic" of a bomb. We knew it would strike, but didn't know
exactly when, nor did we know which window would burst or what part of
the roof it would yank away first.
No one spoke. But suddenly I heard a strange
noise. "What is that scraping?" I asked.
"It's my yogurt cup," my mom said in her
characteristic calmness. "It's my bedtime snack," she added with a
matter-of-fact tone.
How can she eat at a time like this? Does she
not realize the danger we're in?
"My hope is in the Lord," she said, "He will
protect us. Do you think this hurricane is catching Him by surprise? He
is always faithful. Hope in Him is all we have."
I had heard those same words from the pulpit.
They brought mild reassurance as I sense no danger in that pew
surrounded by painted glass windows. But now what painted my mind was
images of us under a rubble of destruction. Outside noises emphasized my
imagination. We heard more banging and crashing outside. I changed my
please: "Lord, I know you're in control. I have the certainty that You
will see us through. And I know that You will calm this storm in my
heart and also outside." But my words still echoed with doubt.
Frances' furious winds struck with more
intensity in some areas, yanking off roofs like box tops, and the
roaring winds hurled traffic lights, smashing them to the ground. Some
fatalities were reported.
"The tracking shows Frances is now in
Orlando's downtown area," the radio reporter announced. We all went
silent to make sure that we'd heard the good news (for us, at least)
correctly, then it was confirmed. Frances had moved north; it had
finally passed us.
God did show up timely and swiftly. We
breathed a sigh of relief. And I gave a silent, Thank you. We stepped
out of our stuffy room and headed outside, glancing with disbelief at
the mess, the debris and broken pieces of items from tree branches to
trashcan lids, to unidentifiable items.
While we all gasped at the destruction, a deep
yawn slipped from my mom's lips, and she tossed her empty yogurt cup in
the wastebasket. "There was no need to worry then; no need to worry now.
God is in control. Good night everyone," she said.
"We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help
and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy
name." (Psalm 33:20). It was in the "waiting" that God worked in
me--teaching me to trust in the midst of winds of fear. To be secure
when I hear threatening sounds, and to rest secure when others blurt bad
news, gloom, or warnings of destruction.
With renewed faith, gratitude removed the last
of the dark clouds of the storm, and new meaning. My hope was in God,
not in the circumstances or in those around me.
The next morning's sun uncovered the radiance
of God's promises that He will answer our pleas, timely and swiftly. His
faithfulness becomes visible not so much in the calmness of my life, but
during the storms and emotional hurricanes that test my faith.
Let's Pray: Father, as we face all storms that
threaten our lives, we rest in the comfort of Your promises that You
never abandon us, never leave us. But without fail, You shelter us with
Your love and protection. In Jesus' name I thank You. Amen.
What is testing your faith right now?
Janet P. Eckles
If this message resonated with you, please visit Janet's
cyberspace home for more
inspiration.
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