The Perfect Storm

When I was a little girl growing up in Nebraska, tornados were somewhat commonplace during certain times of the year. I remember there were times when you could just feel that one was about to happen. The sky would cast an antique orange color on all of the trees and houses. It reminded me of the sepia setting on an old 35 mm camera.

The birds became eerily silent and there was a sweet smell in the air. One morning I awoke to the sound of wind thrashing against the windows. In a sense of wonder, I meandered outside in my pajamas to see what was happening. Rain was blowing so hard that it felt like shards of glass were hitting my face. The funnel was so large; it was all I could see. It seemed to fill the whole sky. It was swirling in my grandmother’s back yard and it was coming right towards me, everything went white, the sound of the funnel swirling was so loud and everything it touched fell apart and was thrown into the air into little pieces.

Fear struck me and I called out for my mother to come out and save me but when I looked behind me, I saw her look at me, then she coldly turned away and ran off into the distance.

I cried out again and in the midst of the storm and the destruction, it was my grandmother’s face that I saw coming towards me. But she wasn’t running, she was walking calmly towards me, fearless, with arms outstretched. A feeling of peace came over me when everything else was falling apart.
She reached me and put her arms around me and sheltered me with her body and almost immediately the storm vanished.

I then of course woke up because it was nightmare that I had been having! (Gotcha) I have thought of that dream many times as an adult and wondered what God may have been trying to tell me. You know what I think? I think He was trying to tell me that even in the storms of our lives, He remains calm, He remains our protector. Even though I never felt like my mother wanted me or loved me, He did.

Even when I feel alone and that I have no one to save me, He already has.

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