I have been sitting outside for the past hour, taking in the beauty of the morning after last night’s storms. The birds are having a lengthy conversation, no doubt checking in with one another and sharing stories of wind, rain, and lightning. I hope you are all safe and have power!
Anyway, last night was one of those nights that remind us how little control we really have. We are powerless when the winds howl. We seek shelter from rain that pounds against windows, and from lightning that flashes across the sky, followed by thunder that rattles. Reports of tornadoes added another layer of concern.
Yet this morning, everything is different. The sky is blue. The air is cooler. The humidity has retreated. Birds are singing.
As I sat outside this morning, I found myself reflecting on how advanced we’ve become in so many ways. We carry powerful computers in our pockets. We can communicate instantly across the globe. We can fly to places our grandparents only read about in books. We know things and experience things that previous generations could scarcely imagine.
And yet, when a storm arrives, we are reminded that our control is often more fragile than we like to admit.
We can (sometimes imperfectly) predict the weather, but we can’t stop it. We can prepare for a storm, but we can’t command it. We can build stronger homes and develop better warning systems, but we can’t eliminate the forces of nature. When we begin to believe in our own power, knowledge, and technology, all it takes is for a storm to blow through and remind us that we’re not nearly as self-sufficient as we imagined.
All that being said, I don’t believe storms are messages sent from God. But I do believe storms can remind us of our need for God.
In The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf observes, “It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay.” There’s wisdom in that. Our task isn’t to control everything. Our task is to accept that there is darkness, but do the little things to offer light. I’ve already seen stories on the news of neighbors helping neighbors deal with storm damage and loss.
The illusion of control places the weight of the world on our shoulders. Faith offers something different. Faith acknowledges that there are forces we can’t manage, circumstances we can’t predict, and outcomes we can’t guarantee. But faith also offers a way to deal with it all.
Perhaps that is one of the gifts hidden within a stormy night. Not fear, but perspective. The storm reminds us of the frailty of life. The morning after reminds us of the beauty of life. Caring for one another reminds us of the reason for life.
And somehow the birds keep singing.
Prayer: Lord, when I’m tempted to place my confidence in my own abilities, remind me how much I need you. Help me to find peace in the knowledge that you are with me in every storm and take comfort in the knowledge that there will always be a morning that offers a new beginning. Amen.
