“We live in a world that is beyond our control, and life is in a constant flux of change. So we have a decision to make: keep trying to control a storm that is not going to go away or start learning how to live within the rain.”
– Glenn Pemberton
Ten days ago we had a huge wind storm here in Melbourne. The effect of this storm was felt for days afterwards as trees came crashing down, blocking roads and cutting of power supply to hundreds of homes. Bushwalking with my fur children this morning, the pug became very engrossed in inspecting the huge root system of a massive gum tree that stood in the path of the storm and now lay smitten across our regular walking track. There is a whole separate, tiny ecosystem that lives under these wooden giants.
The storm that came brought winds of over 100 kilometres per hour. It seemed to come out of nowhere. No one could predict its path accurately. Storms come when they want to, how they want to, and where they want to. Even our most modern societies stand little chance when Mother Nature thunders with terrifying magnificence.
Every year we witness all sorts of storms which beat up a part of our planet. Somewhere, someone will be in its path and the result is never pleasant. Superstition and extreme religious views often fuel the misery. Storms have been considered as God punishing innocent people for hundreds of years. The marginalised and oppressed people groups, according to some, are always to blame for the heartache that storms bring. And people, afraid of disasters, buy the complete voodoo spiel!
Perhaps it is easier to blame someone for storms than to face the fact that storms are part of life? Perhaps, when people buy into a religion that tells them that no bad things will ever happen to them and that their God always protects them from storms, the natural reaction to disaster is to look for a cause? How easily we revert to karma; the idea of some angry, retributive ‘god’ that needs appeasing. It is very uncomfortable to think that just like my gum tree friend, now lying by my feet and being inspected by the pug, we too will find ourselves in the path of storms not of our own making but simply because storms come when they want to, how they want to, and where they want to. Storms, dear friend, are a part of life.
There will be days, months, years, when it will feel like your life is directly in the path of an unyielding, merciless storm. Most of the time we don’t have a clue why this is so. Guard your heart against the ‘counsellors’ that will attempt to pontificate from their perceived moral high ground or soap box into your life. You don’t need to take their rhetoric board. You see, friend, storms come when they want to, how they want to, and where they want to. They come into the lives of the just and the unjust, they will rage in palaces and the poorest hovels, they will find a path through the most modern city and the deepest jungle. Storms are what storms are … and now and then we will find ourselves in the path of a storm.
Faith does not guarantee the ceasing of storms in your life. Storms come and go. Trying to create a religious ideology that ‘storm proofs’ our lives will only bring deep disappointment and resentment. Faith recognises that the Divine walks with us ‘through’ the storms. You are not anymore loved, holy or special because you have not experienced many storms. Neither is there anything ‘wrong’ with you if you happen to find yourself in the path of a storm.
Storms, after all, come when they want to, how they want to, and where they want to … and you, dear friend, are still loved.