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Storms

Storms in the life of a believer are inevitable and we’ve all seen the poster encouraging us to dance in the rain.  Sometimes I don’t feel like dancing.  Sometimes I am going along – eyes fixed on Jesus in the middle of my raging sea – then I have a freak out moment and look at crashing waves around me and plead for Him to ‘Make it stop!”  Guess what – Jesus doesn’t stop it right then, instead – He holds His hand out to me during the storm and holds me until the storm passes.    A contradiction of emotions take place within me: anger and comfort.  Comfort because I know I am not alone in the given storm.  Anger because He has not delivered me from the given storm.

 

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

 

I will forever find comfort in that song, It Is Well, even though I sometimes sing it with tears streaming down my face.  This song seems to  be the “theme song” of three generations of Simpson women.  My grandmother, my mom and myself.  It holds the life lesson I’ve come away these 40 some odd years of walking in rain, wind, fire.  It was their life lesson too.  I found another nugget of wisdom, written in pencil in the margin of Psalms 91 of my grandmother’s crumbling Bible – a date.  The date – December 7, 1941.  That’s all Grandmother had written, but the message is there.  She found her harbour in the storm on the infamous day as her sons fought in the Pacific Arena of WWII.

Hardest part of waiting out my storms?  Trusting the reasoning behind it.  Accepting that one way or another, I will be rescued.

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