Monday, June 22, 2009

Storms

I was sure by now
That you would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day

But once again, I say "Amen"
And it's still raining
But as the thunder rolls
I barely hear you whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

And I praise you in this storm
And I will lift my hands
You are who you are
No matter where I am

And every tear I cry
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
Though my heart is torn
I will praise you in this storm

--Casting Crowns

Saturday was stormy, both literally and figuratively. Joc and I awoke to ominous skies and a radar forcast that predicted inevitable soggy shoes for the Baltimore 10 Miler that morning. As expected, steady rain came down as we toured Baltimore's neighborhoods from the zoo to Lake Montebello and back.

The gospel this Sunday taught us the story of Jesus who calmed the stormy seas while he and his disciples were out fishing. Father continued with the metaphor of the storm and encouraged us to look at storms not as something to be avoided (impossible!) but as an opportunity for growth and character development. God wants us to depend upon him and call on him at those times and use him for strength. That reminded me of both the Casting Crowns song and a plaque I have on our dresser:

"Sometimes the Lord calms the storm. Sometimes, He lets the storm rage and calms his child."

I remember seeing that plaque so many times on my mom's dresser and it always gave me pause, and peace. Recently, she sent it to me and it continues to give me (and AJ) something to think about.

So the storm metaphor was everywhere, is everywhere, and works well for me...I feel so much that I'm still living under a rain cloud. I can't help but look at these last 9 months as rain that won't let up, darkness that won't lift. Of course I have good days, most are good, but the shadow follows. I don't know what will make that go away...I have suspicions, but I also think it's ok if it doesn't go away totally. It's part of me.

I am still learning to live with things I cannot control and that is really frustrating, maddening. Trying to plan what the next few months and years will look like with a ? in the air goes against everything my schedule/calendar believes in! Do we take that trip? Do I start training for a marathon? Do I leave that part of my work schedule open? Do I enjoy that glass of wine? I don't want to do things half-assed or not at all waiting for something that may/may not happen. I will try to keep you updated on my growth...or lack thereof.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dear Stephie and AJ,

Uncertainty is so hard, especially if you're the organized, proactive kind of person that both of you are. I can't imagine the toll that nine months of this kind of grief must take, and the kinds of frustrations and sadnesses you encounter every day.

Thank you for continuing to let us be a small part of your journey. We are here with you on it for as long as it takes!

Love you so,

Rosie

Shey said...

thinking of you guys. Love you.