This past week has been an eye-opener. I am not one to watch the news regularly nor do I keep a close check on the weather report. I had glimpsed at the news titles of the coming storm and received text alerts as to the preparations being made in case of a power outage. I didn’t think much about it. I just made a pot of coffee the night before just in case the power was out for a few hours in the morning. When I went to bed Thursday night, the storm was far from my mind, yet anxiety pulsed through me. I told my husband that I was afraid for some reason… that something just did not feel right.
The next morning, I got up as usual, read my devotion, and did my early workout. The storm began to brew and the power flickered, finally giving out a couple of minutes before my husband left for work. The wind gained strength, and a tree fell barely missing the corner of our house. An hour had passed since my husband had gone, and I called to check on him. He was still trying to get to work. I rushed from window to window, listening to the crack of trees uprooting and watching them crash to the ground all around the house. This was the first time I ever remember being truly frightened in a storm.
Two hours passed, and suddenly I couldn’t get through on my husband’s phone. My heart was pounding, unsure what to do. Then I saw him through the window, walking toward the house. He said he had to leave his truck and trek through the woods. All routes home were blocked by fallen trees and power lines.
My area was not the hardest hit, yet as I write this many in our power district are still without electricity. We were without power for almost four days, and since we have a well, we were without running water also. Yet, this was just a simple inconvenience that does not come anywhere even remotely close to the catastrophic effects that others have endured and are enduring. So many suffered and are still suffering loss. Many have lost their homes and jobs. But worst of all, lives were taken by the storm, and some are still missing in the aftermath. I cannot even fathom that level of pain and heartbreak.
As I drive down the road and see the damage left behind and listen to the soul-piercing stories of what some have suffered, the temporary status of this world resonates to my core. Ironically, several days before the storm, I was having trouble sleeping, and my dearest friend texted me a verse to say as a prayer before bed. At the time, I would never have imagined the impact this verse would have. But now, the words echo through my mind all day because this world offers no guarantees. True peace and our only real shelter are found in the salvation that comes through a relationship with Jesus. If disaster strikes in the next minute, are we certain of our eternal destination? Can we pray the words in Psalm 4:8 which says, “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety” (KJV), knowing that upon our exit from this life, we will enter into His presence?
