When I stepped onto the path, the sun was playing hide and seek with the clouds racing across the sky. The birds were singing. Urgently. It was not their usual playful banter. My ears heard the differences without my notice, at first. Halfway through my walk, the sun had disappeared, along with the birdsongs. My ears perked up at the silence. I picked up my pace. The wind whispered, then moaned. The trees waved me along, motioning me to move more quickly. Even the river seemed more no-nonsense in its flow. Direct. No frolicking today. My imagination? Maybe. But the clouds went from gray to black in what seemed an instant and began to dump their load. My shirt was sprinkled with dark polka dots within minutes. Fortunately, I got to my car before the deluge.

Now, from the safety of my house, the wind is howling. The windchime is ringing an alarm. The thunder cracks and the lightning flashes. The rain is blowing sideways on the porch. A full-on storm is rumbling around the valley and bouncing off the mountains. Is it weird that I am soothed by the sounds?

I have always loved storms. When I was a kid, I used to sit on the front porch and watch the storms come over the mountains. They were a spectacular show, the strobe of the lightning light show in the rainclouds, with a soundtrack of thunder rolling around after. When the wind picked up, the smell of rain wafted a warning, the distance was closing. I went inside only when the rain made its way to my face as I sat on the porch swing.

However, I do not love the storms in life like I love the real ones. Sometimes, I can see trouble coming my way. I belt out and rebuke the storm. When it keeps coming, I blame it on the enemy, or the judgement of God, or some failure of mine. I always want to make it about performance; mine or someone else’s. Trying to control the uncontrollable. Trying to explain it away as something other than a random occurrence. What is it that always makes my first question, “why?” Looking for a cause. Trying to place the blame.

Then, I rush, trying to escape the inevitable. Trying to make it to safety before I am overtaken. I act surprised, when I should have seen the signs. Just like on my hike when I was surprised by the sudden silence. Had I been paying closer attention, I would have known. I might have avoided something I hate… actually jogging! Ha!

There are other life storms I hate even more. The surprise ones. One day, everything is fine. Clear skies. Birds singing. Then…BAM! A storm that changes your life forever. These storms are car accidents, sudden loses, diagnoses, broken relationships…they are the tornados of life. They come and go in an instant, leaving destruction behind them. How to rebuild? How to get back to “normal”?

The truth is there is no more normal. Because storms change the landscape, but they also change me. The damage from a storm can be mitigated. The destruction can be rebuilt. But my own soul…will never be quite the same. This is not a bad thing, but it is painful to recognize that I am not who I used to be. I walk around with the scars of the storms I have survived. I respond to life differently because of them.

Ultimately, I am more patient, more compassionate…and sometimes more scared. The fear is real. Baggage comes from previous experiences, but so does faith. The more storms I have survived, the more I know God holds me in his hands and he holds the storms, too. He is not surprised by anything that comes my way. He holds me up no matter if I have watched the storm arriving for years, or if it comes suddenly. Because of him, I am not afraid of what happens in the world. I am not afraid of the darkness, because he is the light. When I am disoriented by a sudden whirlwind in my life, I know that despite my surprise, he will be with me…always. This is the lesson from the storm.