Wind and rain are a welcomed relief come September in Florida. Gusts of air cut through the choking heat, and falling waters cool the sweltering earth below. Most often, that is. But sometimes, if the atmospheric mixologist is hot-tempered, a hostile cocktail of destruction is served, a foreboding drink that’s difficult for any sober soul to swallow. The Hurricane.
Blasting currents whip to and fro crashing against the new aluminum overhang my 83-year-old father worked so hard to mount above my door. Last week’s well-executed accomplishment now creates a sinister sound that shakes my stability and harasses my peace. What appeared on the scene bringing relief, now wears the angry and ominous mask of destruction.
Menacing days like these raise questions. Isn’t God supposed to be a Being of grace whose ways escort life and freedom? As bystanders we’ve frequently witnessed what appears to be harsh and haphazard loss, making it damn near impossible for our minds to accept these niceties as true.
Are we expected to conceive that storms are conjured to promote new life by bringing needed death? Maybe. Or could it be that these aggressive displays are masterfully formulated to magnify our lack of authority?
As repeatedly recited by the patrons of Alcoholics Anonymous, we are indeed unable and incapable. Powerless, they call it. Though the creation of our brain is intricately complex, its boundaries go far beyond our ability to comprehend or even access. Truth be told, when calibrated on the scales of eternity, everything about the way we operate is shortsighted, selfish, and superficial.
The sum total of our foreknowledge is zero, yet we are self-appointed first responders to every fear and fancy our emotions present. Rarely do we consider the full cost of our choices. One of the superb phenomenons about our God is this; He sees all, knows all, and replies with the kindest, most appropriate action available.
Only we can stop the insults and innuendos that belt through our skulls bringing a backlash of unfounded reports. Stories of God’s desired domination that’s intended to bring defeat. Have we not learned that trust must be maintained until we’ve seen the whole picture? Is goodness able to be valued having never been a spectator of evil? Does the fiery passion that accompanies a life of purpose possess any flare if it cannot be snuffed out?
Being more than survivors requires we recognize that a formidable enemy remains busy attempting to generate the perfect storm. A psychological forecast that’s sent forth in hopes of destroying our reverence and advancing the spirit of blasphemy. That’s a fact, but so is this: God does not owe us an explanation. Christ’s death, 2000 years ago, still has the power to answer any question and calm every storm. When He was raised to new life, so were we. Never to experience death again. Yes!
All these sharp words are targeted to remind us that our God is always on point. He does what’s necessary, even when we don’t get it. He never misses anything. Nothing.
Make no mistake about it—His hand is in everything—even the hurricane.