We had a mad mess of storms at the end of April. It was a wake up call of sorts. We had power, shelter, and internet most of the time. I still look back and wish I had offered more help. I am always amazed by the power of weather. After the first wave of storms hit Chattanooga, I got prepared to encounter the second wave. And I snapped a few pictures. It was emotional, God really does control everything. We are completely dependant. We made it through just fine, although some good friends lost their homes. God still works miraculously, and is turning this tradgedy into a change that we needed. A wake up call. A demonstration, a reminder: Hello, I’m here, and I’m a big deal.
Then it seemed that all other kinds of stuff started to follow. Bad news. Cancer, operations, illness, death, grief, things coming to an end. It makes you reflect and depend on Him who knows the outcome and who sees the path clearly. I still am limping through how to help those who need it. I have probably dropped the ball over and over again. But I fill my mouth with prayers and blessings. I talk to my children about what it all means, then instruct them to pray too.
Josiah prayed last night, “Lord, help Grandpa Dale to live and not die, heal his body. Help baby Henri to get all the blood he needs, and that he will get big and strong. That he will do everything he wants to do, everything you want him to do.” Oh yes. Young faith is so good.
For all the other storms, they have calmed or they are at that steady constant drizzle waiting to let up all they way so we can go out and splash in the puddles. Our eyes are wider now as we look at the sky, and our hearts are more connected. We wait on the Spirit to bring comfort and strength that we don’t have. It’s so good to have hope.