By Donna Downs
Last night my son Brandon and I stood outside and watched the storm disembark. Tall, slender and easily blown about, he ran out into the field and gazed up to heaven in awe. He threw his arms out, paralleling the ground, and twirled around. “Isn’t it cool?” he yelled against the bellowing winds.
What we experienced at that moment was the awesome hand of God moving about the earth, changing the south winds to north, blue sky to gray, stillness to ravaging storms. Often these storms direct us to God when we otherwise don’t notice He’s there.
As the small, nearly transparent, lighter clouds danced eastward beneath the looming gray billowing vastness, we settled on the porch swing, watching the heavens move above us, feeling the winds engulf us and smelling the fresh summer rain. The all-encompassing gray cloud sat above us as a toadstool in the forest, in a distinct circular pattern, casting a shadow on the gesturing green grass.
A memorable time with my son.
God must have felt the same way as He read our innermost thoughts of His mighty and breathtaking power. We acknowledged His presence, His authority, His sovereignty. A memorable time with His children.
“Makes you feel pretty small, huh?” I asked Brandon.
Knowing the storm could develop into something far worse than it was, we both lingered in the moment of God’s supremacy. Watching it pass, arrogantly taunting the earth, we felt respite at the inconsequential damage left in the storm’s path.
As it dissipated, allowing clear skies to peak through broken clouds, we sat, my son and I, basking in the presence of a mighty and wonderful God.
“Look!” he exclaimed, pointing westward. “Blue!”
And we find that’s how our God works. Storms come and go. Some loom above us, surround us, teasing us, warning us. Others hit hard, damage us, leaving us wounded and wondering, “What shall I do with this, Lord?”
But however each storm affects us, blue skies always appear, often leaving us wondering if the storm really even ever existed.
God’s promise is not that storms will not come. He doesn’t promise damage-free lives. He doesn’t say He will not allow us to be hurt.
He says, simply, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Donna Downs is an Associate Professor of Media Communications at Taylor University, Upland, Indiana and serves on the Board of Directors for REST Ministries.