The Unlikely Messenger: A Slice of Life with Debra Brown
I stood at the window, watching the trees swaying in the wind, and worried about the latest weather alert blasting from my iPhone.
As I watched, storm clouds gathered until darkness encompassed the afternoon sky. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Soon, sheets of rain drenched the ground with standing water flooding low-lying areas of the yard. When the thunder boomed, shaking the house, I could hear my mom’s shouts of panic in my mind.
“Get away from that window! I don’t want to lose you, too.”
At age 12, she’d held her dad’s hand as the family walked the short distance toward their home after revival. They’d stayed inside the church until the storm passed. But, on the way home, her dad was struck by lightning, killing the father of 9 at age 40, and knocking Mom to the ground unconscious. It changed her life forever.
Afterward, any time Mom noticed clouds looming, she’d become nervous. Jittery and anxious, she was no doubt reliving her childhood trauma.
As a small child, her fear made me fascinated by storms. I’d stand at the screen door, feeling the electricity in the air, mesmerized by lightning popping and crackling with bolts of light flashing across the dark sky – until Mom pulled me away, telling me over and over about the dangers.
As I got older, her story about that stormy day took on a new meaning of love and loss. My fascination turned to fear.
During one strong North Georgia storm, my dad noticed me trembling. To my surprise, he handed me a rock.
“Let this be your anchor in the storm,” he said. “Just like God.”
He recounted the story of Noah, one I’d heard for years.
“Noah had faith,” Dad said. “He followed God’s instructions and stayed safe.”
I knew the story. God told Noah to build the ark even though he saw no signs of a storm coming, and certainly not 40 days and 40 nights of rain. But, despite the criticism, Noah built it, loaded it with loved ones and animals, and watched God close the door.
“Then,” Dad said, “the waters came, and he waited in the ark where he was safe until God set the ark down on the mountain.”
“But what if our storm …?” I said, squeezing the rock tighter as rain pounded the roof.
“Look,” he said, putting his large hand over mine. “We worry about a lot of things that never happen. You need to trust God to see us through the storm.”
I held that rock through many storms. Even today, I hold Dad’s words close as I face struggles and challenges and life’s stormy days.
Our world is fraught with uncertainty. Torrential rain falls. Lightning strikes. Thunder rumbles. We lose loved ones. We face financial hardships. Relationships fail. People and circumstances disappoint us. There’s a long list of perils where we can find reasons to worry.
Later in the day as the afternoon storm stopped and the sun broke through the clouds, I thought of what Pastor Tony had said earlier that day in his Sunday morning message.
“You can worry or you can pray. If you prayed as much as you worried, you’d have a lot less to worry about.
Don’t worry, worship.
Don’t panic, pray.
Don’t tremble, trust.
Pray more, worry less.
If it’s worth worrying about, it’s worth praying about.”
We fret about the past and often don’t learn from the lessons. Or, we let the past hold us back. We worry about the future and most of our worries never happen. But, we let the fear keep us from enjoying life.
So, we can use rainy days – even stormy ones – as a pause, a refresh, a chance to breathe in the clean air, and an opportunity to watch the beauty of nature.
We can pray and find comfort in knowing God is always with us. He is our anchor.
Soon, the storm will end, and the water will subside. The sun will come out, and we’ll hear the birds singing.
Debra Brown’s motto is “Be the Spark.” She has a passion for family, her 3 cats, flowers, pretty food, and health & wellness. Debra is an author, UGA honors graduate/The Citadel MBA.