Into the Fire

Windstorms in our small city are not abnormal and seem to occur at their worst in the months of January, March, and November. However, they can surprise in other months. The worst of the winds come from the east. If the flags are flapping westward, trouble could happen. And often does. 

Usually, when the east wind amps up, power is at its mercy and it tends to bow out under the pressure. Sometime just after 2 AM on Wednesday, the howling, shrieking wind woke me up and almost immediately the power succumbed. Twenty-seven hours later, power was restored and the wind had gone away no doubt satisfied with its impact. About a mile down the road a huge tree stretched out over the road from one house's yard to the opposite side of the road at its neighbor's property line. Lying dead in the road its branches must have reached 20 or 30 feet in the air. I couldn't see through them to the obscured road. 

All that to say I was absent from my computer as a result. No big deal. I doubt I was missed. 

Storms remind us of one constant: we are not in control. We conduct ourselves with intention, and most of us try to do life well and right. Not an easy thing to do, and there are many interferences to those good intentions. I'm not a stranger to doing the wrong thing earlier in life and certainly am not perfect in my present life, but I know storms can bring about nearly every emotion and character trait in people – both good and bad. When they're over, the results vary from the tragic to the mundane, and our conduct can probably be evaluated in equal terms depending on the severity of the storm.

I'm grateful that all this mini-storm produced was a power outage and some downed trees in our area. 

Father, thank you for getting me through the storms of life. I have you to thank for each triumph no matter how small. Apart from you I can do nothing. And I'm always desperate for you. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.