I sit and watch the storm approaching. Dark clouds drawing in, curtains blocking out the light. The wind picks up, blowing leaves around like helpless bits of rubbish caught up in something bigger than themselves.
The rain begins to fall, quietly and sporadically at first, then violently and without mercy. Plants bow at the power of the raindrops, which shatter on the ground, creating individual explosions.
The world has gone from a moment of calm to a moment of supreme chaos in a matter of minutes. The rain and wind attack the windows of houses, desperate to get in. Inside those houses sit people, all watching the storm, hoping the rain and wind stay out.
In the middle of the storm, it is calm. A glimpse of peace amid a raging inferno. A moment of speechlessness, as the storm rages around but not within. The trees take respite, weary branches resting in a momentary relief.
I can’t stop thinking about storms at the moment. I can’t stop wondering why God leads us into them. Questioning why. It’s part of the journey, I know. But not a part I necessarily enjoy.
Nothing comes out of the storm unchanged in some way. Physically, mentally, emotionally – the storm changes us. As he guides us through the storm, God changes us.
“Out of defeat can come the best in human nature. As Christians face storms of adversity, they may rise with more beauty. They are like trees that grow on mountain ridges — battered by winds, yet trees in which we find the strongest wood.” Billy Graham.