I woke out of a dead sleep to a crash and a crackling sound. The sky was ablaze with strange lights and I thought I was dreaming. I realized we were in the middle of a storm, complete with hail and lots of howling. It sounded like the porch was going to rip right off the house. I tried to rouse my slumbering husband, but he simply would not wake up. I knew he was still alive, judging from the sounds emanating from his nostrils, but the gun definitely is staying on my side of the bed now. Apparently he's not going to be any help if we get invaded in the middle of the night.
I have never seen lightning like that, in my entire life. It sincerely looked like something was burning up over the horizon, eerie flashing that had no pause. I walked through the house, staying as far away from the windows as possible, but peering out to see what was happening. It looked like a fierce storm out at sea, with no details except gray whipping water at all the portals. I could hear hail hitting the porch and sizzling sounds. It was the worst storm I can ever remember, very exciting and scary. But it did remind me of my childhood and my Daddy...
When I was a kid, if a storm came up, it was going to be dramatic at our house. My Daddy was scared to death of them. He even dug out our crawlspace to make a fallout shelter. When spring thunderclouds would crop up, he would absolutely panic. I recall him virtually throwing me down the stairs once, when he thought we were in danger. He would grab up crackers and blankets and shoo us down the cellar. I always wondered how long we could hold out with a box of saltines.
One summer day, my Dad's family was over for a cookout, no small feat. There were eight of them, plus spouses, plus a prolific amount of offspring. I think there were over thirty cousins on that side. Everyone was milling around, talking, playing, cooking, when a terrific storm whipped up. The umbrella flew off the picnic table, the grill turned over, and all hell broke loose. My aunts began screaming and directing children to the inside of the house. I had never seen such mayhem. People were jamming into the hall and bathroom, scared to pieces. It seemed as soon as it started, it was over. Everyone laughed in relief but the party was definitely through. Later I asked my Daddy why they were all so scared. He told me of how his Mama used to make all of her children get under the bed when a storm came up. She would cry and wail and pray, scaring them that much worse.
This was always the way it went at our house when storms came. Until something radical happened to our family. I was in my middle-school years when the Lord reached down and rescued us. My mother found new life when God gave her the grace to forgive her own mother. The same year, my Daddy became a believer, ushering their marriage into a sort of honeymoon, where before there was anger and fighting and disconnectedness. In later years, us kids were told that they had been on the verge of divorce before the Lord intervened. Everything about our lives changed. Where there had been white walls and scrubbed-hospital-clean-ire, our home literally bloomed with color, creativity and love. My Mama started sewing, painting, wallpapering. There was no more crying or screaming over spilt milk. And then there was a special bonus, that took me a good while to notice...
One sultry, dark summer afternoon the black sky split open with thunder and lightning. My heart jerked as I quickly looked to my Daddy for his next move. He looked up and smiled, then went back to reading his book. That old nature was gone and a new one had taken over. Many years have rolled by since, but I've never seen him panic with fear in a tempest again. The Allower of Storms replaced that old stony heart with a heart of flesh. I guess he knows he's safe in the arms of the Lord, no matter how the storm might turn out.
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