Storms

Life brings storms.  Some small, with light winds and rain.  Some last for days.  Some knock down trees or topple over electric poles, leaving you a little out of sorts for a while.

Sometimes life brings hurricanes, brewing for days, swirling, calm in the middle, but destructive throughout.

In marriage, storms happen.  No matter what season in life, storms seem to occur.  We may face them prepared, with our rainboots and umbrellas, or we may be fleeing from them, dashing to a safe place, trying to stay dry.

Weeks before Hurricane Issac made landfall, we had our own hurricane.  Clinging to drifting tree limbs, battling the strongest of winds, shielding our eyes from the stinging rain.   Our levees were breached like never before, we were drowning, drowning in the intensity of a cat 5 storm.

But hope never gives up.  No storm is bigger.  Come hurricanes that seek to rip families apart, come the biggest of snowstorms or the hottest of deserts or the earthquake that slides the land in the sea, there is you.  Only you.  Enough to shake off the rain. Dry our soaked clothes, seek shelter, bow our heads, and rebuild. 

Hurricane season is only halfway over, but in our house it's already gone.