When I titled this column “Live and Learn” 20 years ago, I should’ve known God would take me seriously and keep the lessons coming. And boy, oh boy, He certainly has.
In the aftermath of the tornado that churned through our property on May 3, God has taken advantage of many teachable moments, as any wise parent would, and it’s both therapeutic and unavoidable for me to share a few of those with you.
First, as I mentioned in my last column, I am beyond grateful our house is still standing. My thankfulness hasn’t waned and is, in fact, stoked every time someone stops by, takes a gander, and says what a miracle it is that our home wasn’t blown to smithereens.
When I look out my windows at the fallen trees, I must make a choice: I can focus on the miracle or the mess. Being thankful for the miracle has kept me emotionally and spiritually afloat.
This next lesson is primarily for you menfolk. There’s a reason why women think it’s insane that many of you guys immediately go stand on the front porch when a tornado warning is issued. What in the world? Unless the only other option is staying inside a mobile home tethered to planet Earth with a few measly tie-downs, outside is not the place to be in a tornado. (I’m rolling my eyes.)
My husband finally sprinted from the porch to the basement when he saw Elvira Gulch riding her bicycle across the sky (that’s a very relevant “Wizard of Oz” reference, in case that name doesn’t ring a bell). Had he not, he probably would’ve been clobbered by some heavy porch furniture that was catapulted across the length of our porch. Take heed, fellas, take heed.
Another lesson? No mess is too big to clean up if one is willing to patiently and consistently work at it. We must refuse to be paralyzed by the enormity of the challenge, continue to move forward, and know that endurance will be required and will likely feel pretty uncomfortable. After all, how can we develop endurance if we don’t have to endure something?
In James 1:2-3, we’re even told to “consider it all joy” when we encounter trials because we know the testing of our faith will produce endurance. Are you feeling like a spiritual midget yet? I know I am.
Interestingly, “endurance” is translated from two Greek words that together mean “abide under.” If our faith is in Christ, we’re ultimately overcomers, but in this life we’re bound to encounter difficulties we have to abide under for a while. But here’s the good part: the end result of endurance, according to James 1:4, is that we “may be perfect (mature) and complete, lacking in nothing.”
Anybody out there want to be mature, complete and lacking in nothing? Come on, raise your hands high … and then get ready to abide under something uncomfy for a while.
Don’t despair. Not only does the Holy Spirit come alongside to provide strength and grace, God also often sends a posse to help. They may show up with heavy equipment to untangle mountains of fallen trees. Or bring a lasagna the size of Montana to feed you for days. Or help you drag and pile up limbs. Or climb up on your barn roof to cover the gaping hole with a huge tarp they’ve brought.
God’s people aren’t perfect, but when darkness envelopes one of us, the light of our Lord often shines brightly through brothers and sisters He moves to help us.
These are a few lessons the tornado has helped me learn and relearn. It’s been a hard class and not one I’d care to repeat, but one day I’m sure I’ll be glad I was forced to take it. I always am.