Storms Come. Storms Go.
Disaster strikes at most inopportune times.
Knowing this is life for all,
Why don’t we plan for life after storms better?
I remember when Hurricane Carla blew into the Gulf Coast. I was just six or so. 1961. We had been at Champion Park (Seabrook, TX) for less than a year. Dad was off, so we took a vacation to Kentucky. Perry and Anita had just moved onto their farm.
When we returned, 140-160 trees had been blown down. Clear Lake had crept within 100 feet of the house, and we were far from the waterfront. Mom and Dad carried us into the house. Leaves… Snakes… Everywhere!
One co-worker of dad’s, Louis Gill, came from Champion Paper Mill to help Dad. My memories? Honey Bees in the trunk of a crashed oak tree. Built a fire. Smoked ’em out. Dad loaded a #3 washtub, and we enjoyed it for a long time.
For weeks and months we dealt with the aftermath. Supplies were low? You learned to make do with what you had or what you could find. It sort of sounds like the pandemic of a few years ago.
I was thinking about storms this morning because a storm swept through Houston yesterday (May 16, 2024). Friends have started flagging themselves as safe on social platforms. I checked in with mom (Barbara Gurley), and she was fine. I watched the social feeds to see how everyone fared. Electricity is out for some, and it gets hot down there! That means no A/C. How did we ever survive when I was a kid? Trees were gone. Several victims died of storm-related incidents.
The family was driving up here through the Midwest last week after the storms of Houston. They had many storms along their path, including the command that all find shelter immediately. They arrived Sunday; Monday was a holiday, and then a tornado touched down close to their home in East Texas. Trees down. Power off. Wind damage. You name it.
When we get storms here (Washington), it’s often the winter. Blowing out of the Pacific Ocean, we can huddle for days before it returns to normal.
In Anchorage? Those winter to spring storms were called Williwaw’s.
Storms are everywhere.
They come. They go.
There will always be an aftermath.
This morning I was thinking about the church. It is not immune to storms. Little squalls in the local body, alongside worldwide events that create upheaval on every front. Last week, a young missionary couple was slain in gang violence in another country not far from here. Storms.
The business climate goes through storms. Politics. Healthcare. Housing bubble. In fighting. Country fighting. Fighting.
Name it, it’s there, but it’s the aftermath we all struggle through.
A popular chapter of the Bible I like to read when thinking about storms. Toward the end of his ministry, Paul is sailing to Rome to resolve his appeal to Caesar. Paul warns all involved.
… “Men, I perceive that this voyage will end with disaster and much loss,
not only of the cargo and ship, but also our lives.”
Acts 27:10 NKJV
His prophecy was correct. In the midst of the storm, Paul gave wise advice. The ship was wrecked, the cargo lost, but there was no loss of life.
Perhaps we are not in the storm of the century, but little storms (foxes) do make for daily issues… But it’s the aftermath we struggle the most with.
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