Creating the perfect Storm

Creating the perfect storm

When I was kid I lived in a subtropical climate which means it rains a lot. We would get these storms that would come out of nowhere. I used to love to sit on the front porch and watch the storm develop. This bright blue sky with puffy white cotton clouds would start to turn gray. Gray meant rain nothing special just rain but then sometimes the sky would go from gray to dark purple and this struggle would take place. Streaks of sun light would break through the purple and patches of black would try to cover the sky. There would be all these colors in the sky, you would have your blue and gray and purple and black and sometimes red and orange and the sky was just brilliant. Then the air would change and become thicker and it was a little harder to breathe, very quickly the daylight would disappear and darkness would cover the sky. Streaks of lighting would flash across the blackness and thunder would roll across the expanse. The lighting may have lit the sky but thunder could shake the very foundation of the earth. I would think wow that is power. If Mom forgot about me and left me on the porch then I would get to not only see the rain come down but to feel it come down. It would rain so hard that it came down in sheets. You couldn't see more then a foot in front you. Then the wind would shift and the rain would beat against the house. The wind would drive the rain so hard that it would hurt when it would hit your skin. At some point Mom would realize I was on the porch and I would get drug in the house and spend the rest of the storm at a safe distance from the window watching the storm dance across the sky. Then the sun would brake through the clouds and eventually take over. The storm would disappear and I would be just a little sad.


I always stood in awe of these storms, completely fascinated by there power. As a child I didn't understand the destruction of these storms. I didn't understand that 70 mile per hour winds could take my little 40 pound body and break it in half. I didn't understand the consequences of the storm and the death and destruction it left in its wake. I didn't understand how hard and costly it is to rebuild. I was just blinded by the awe of the storm.


As an adult I have learned the hard way about the consequences of the storm. I see sin and it looks pretty and I am so struck by its awe that I don't look past the awe to the destruction. So I embrace the storm and there is no one to keep me in the house a safe distance from the fury of the storm. So I walk out into the storm and think wow what power. The beautiful colors are there, but then very quickly the sky becomes black and the rain is beating down and stings my skin as it hits me. I turn around to run for the safety of the house but I can't see the house for the blackness and rain covers everything. Lightening lights up the sky but for only a second and thunder shakes the earth and knocks me to the ground. I am cold and wet and hurting, lost in the darkness. I cry out but no one can hear me over the fury of the storm. I am in the storm and there is no way out and it is raging all around me and I wonder am I going to make it out a live, is this it, is this were it all ends.


Then I cry out to God more of a whisper then a cry. I have been in the storm so long that all my strength is gone. I know God can't hear my whisper over the howl of the wind but I whisper anyway. Then the Son breaks through the clouds and I look up to see hope. The storm has disappeared and I look around at the destruction and chaos and I cry. Everything looks hopeless as the Son shines light on the destruction and it is ugly and broken and jagged and my destruction against the backdrop of His light makes everything I have done wrong shine brightly for everyone to see. I hang my head in shame, guilt washes over me. I am cold and wet and broken, bleeding from the ravages of the storm. I know there is warmth and healing in the light but I look around at all the people who are not broken and bleeding and if I step out into the light they will see everything, they will see me, bleeding and dirty. There is nothing pretty about me. I could run and hide in the darkness then no would see me, only shadows of me. In the darkness I could hide, I will stay cold and wet and broken but everyone in the dark is cold and wet and broken. I have a decision to make do I walk toward the Son or do I hide in the darkness. I look in both directions there are a lot more shadows in the darkness then there are people in the light. I can't really see what is happening in the shadows but in the light everyone looks clean and safe and warm. I am by no means clean maybe I belong in the shadows. I take a deep breath and slowly start walking to the Son. I hear the shadows calling to me.

Finally I am standing in the light and the warm feels so good. The Son reaches down and dry's my tears, he wipes the mud off of my face. As I stand there absorbing the Son, a transformation begins, I have become a new person in Christ. I am clean, the broken places are healed.
I feel so good I want to tell everyone to come out from the shadows and come into the light and feel the warmth. I walk around and meet other clean people. They tell me there storm stories and I tell them mine. I can still here the shadows calling me. I ignore them and keep talking to people. I find people who don't have storm stories. Most storm stories are not as long as mine. I say things like I couldn't here the Son over the wind howling but other people could hear him. Why didn't I hear him, what is wrong with me? I hear the shadows calling me and I turn to walk away but one of the shadows calls me by name. I walk over and talk to the shadow. He says I belong in the darkness and I am just kidding my self hanging out with the clean people. I was a shadow and would always be a shadow. I shout NO but he says look at your hands they are dirty. I look down at my hands they are black and covered in dirt. I wipe them on my shirt now my shirt is dirty. I run away from the shadow crying and I run to the Son and I show him my hands and my shirt. He smiles down at me and says my grace is sufficient for you and he wipes my hands and shirt clean.


I sit on the street corner to think. What if my hands get dirty tomorrow? Or what if I get really dirty next week will his grace still work then? How many times can I mess up before my grace runs out? I can't seem to get this staying clean thing right, what if I really do belong in the shadows? Just then Jesus sits down beside me, wraps his arms around me and tells that he died for all my sins past, present and future. He says I belong to him and he is just crazy about me. That his love for me knows no limits and if I will put my tiny hand in his he will lead me. I hesitate for a minute I don't like being lead, I can find the way on my own just fine. He looks into my eyes and I see a love so deep that it takes my breath away. I put my hand in his and ask where are we going? He just smiles and gently leads the way.