I grew up in Kansas and later lived in Nebraska, Oklahoma and Texas, all part of what is known as Tornado Alley. But I did not have access to a computer or radar, so I never knew if the storm was just rain or would be hail, wind, and a tornado. Stormy skies caused anxiety.
A few years ago, when one of my daughters moved to Georgia, I became a semi-expert on reading radar. I could tell her when a huge front was moving in that would bring prolonged storms. Judging by the color, I could tell her the severity. Other times I could see it was just a small, isolated cell and would pass over in a matter of minutes.
Recently, I wrote about an episode of grief I experienced which seemed to come out of nowhere. I erupted in ugly crying and felt drained for a few hours. Even as I was undergoing that outburst, I knew I would recover and go on with my life.
When my husband died, that was a major storm front that raged for two years. I felt beaten down by the rain, hail, wind, and blast of the tornado. Now, seven years in, my radar shows mostly clear skies. In my grief journey, I believe I will encounter future storm cells. But I have no fear. My storm shield is God. He’s always there.
“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’” Psalm 91:2 (NIV)
