PEACE IN THE STORM

Storms? Strong winds? Rain? Hail?  I am not afraid!

Weather reports were forecasting a stormy day for our area.  Storms that would produce thunder, lightening, and lots of rain, but could also produce really strong winds, hail, and tornadoes.  But I am not afraid of storms.  Why?  Because I have a “Storm Spotting” husband living in my home with me.  And on this day, just like other stormy ones, my “live-in storm spotter” was on top of things.  With his computer on National Weather Service (NOAA), television on The Weather Channel, and proper alert notifications set on his i-Phone, Hubby was alert.  At any moment I expected to hear him say in that stern this-is-really-serious-time-to-hunker-down-voice, “get in the bathroom!” In previous tornado-threatening situations, he would get me settled in the bathroom in the middle of the house - with a pillow, flashlight, Diet Dr. Pepper, and a bag of Hostess powdered sugar donuts (a girl must have sustenance!)  And then he would post himself at the triple glass doors on the back of the house, or on the front porch, shouting out weather as he saw it approaching.  Well, today didn’t get quite so severe, but was stormy nonetheless and we were on alert.  But not one time did I get frightened or worried.  No.  I knew my husband had experience, knowledge, and wisdom to make sure I was safe.

 

Storms of life – no different.  Why can I be calm when storms threaten to crash my life to bits on the rocky shores of my existence?  How can I be at peace when the lightening is flashing all around me and the winds are blowing me so that I cannot even stand up?  Because I not only have THE Storm Spotter, but also the storm CHASER, and the storm CALMER living my home (heart).  He is my rock, my refuge, my strong tower.  He is my peace-speaker, peace-bringer, and peace-sustainer, (with peace that passes human understanding.) 

This year I am celebrating 5 years as a cancer survivor!  There have been many stormy days, especially during the treatments and surgeries required to eradicate this death threat from my body.  But through every situation (storm), my Jesus Christ was on the scene to calm the storm and bring me peace.  And you know what?  He has even taught me to “walk on the water” – to rise above the storm to a place of peace with Him where he can show me what true faith and trust are! 

A LITTLE SPOT OF WORRY

Worry always starts with just a small thought – most of the time just two little words – “What if?”  Before you know it, your mind has allowed scenarios that will never come to pass to rob you of hours of peace… and sleep.  But, “what if?”  Once you start down that spiral staircase of worry, there is no stopping your mind.  Except when you, “cast down imaginations, and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, and bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ…” (II Corinthians 10:5). 

One morning I saw a small spot in the corner of my bathroom.  My very first thought – a spider! I didn't have on my glasses for seeing up close so I couldn't make out the details.  Now you have to know this…  I am deathly afraid of spiders, large or small.  (yes, I’m the one that validates that statement, “it might not hurt me but it would make me hurt myself.”) The longer I stared at the spot, the fiercer it became.  It started growing legs and was staring back at me.  I declare it moved a little towards me.  I was ready to run to the kitchen and grab my bug spray when I looked at the spot from another angle.  I didn’t see any legs, but just to be sure it wasn’t that vicious spider, I grabbed a fingernail file and poked at it.  (Now remember it was a small spot – I’m talking the size of a pencil eraser!) Guess what?  That spot turned out to be just a spot on the wall in the corner of the bathroom.  No killer spider.  No danger or harm.  Now just look what my mind had conjured up in just a few seconds.  If my husband had come into the bathroom at 6:30 that morning and saw me poking at a spot on the wall with a fingernail file, he might have considered signing me up for a mental rehab!

That is just how worry and fear works.  We have an image that looms in the corner of our minds.  The more thought we give to the image, the more threatening it becomes. The “what if’s” make turns around our minds like the thundering of a train with car after car after car.  That thing that isn’t going to even come to fruition is taking up so much of our valuable time – time that we could be doing something productive, like sleeping!  But if we will purposefully look at our situation from another angle (through the lenses of God’s Word), we will see there is no danger, no threat, or anything to be feared.   

Having had cancer, there are times that the fear of its return will try to take occupancy in my mind.  But I refuse to give the fear any attention.  I intentionally start casting out the negative images using the Word of God, and will not allow my mind to play videos of scenarios that will never happen.  (Psalm 27 has become my mantra). Even though I tell myself it’s not worry or fear, just concern, I cannot allow it to become more than it is.  

What a sweet relief that I can turn everything over to my Father, even all my little worries and fears.  He told me that I could cast my cares on Him because He cares for me.  And that brings so much peace and rest. 

Sharing love and peace from the Father,

Becki

HER HANDS

HER HANDS

her hands. now clinging to a cross. her body now clinging to life. her life now clinging to her soul. and us children still clinging to her.

We know that God's timing is perfect and we have placed her in His hands.  

HER hands... were always folded in prayer any time we needed an intercessor. ...turned the pages of her Bible as she sought to be all that she could be for her Savior...  her hands... were busy taking care of her sisters who needed help when they were bedridden and sick. ...were busy at her church's food pantry helping get food to those who were hungry...  her hands were raised in praise to her God in every worship service that she could attend.

HER hands. ...once made cinnamon rolls that could have been sold right beside the ones at the state fair. ...once gathered vegetables and roses from her beautiful gardens. her hands ...once canned and preserved her garden's bounty that she would later use to prepare meals for all the family that she could gather around her table.

HER hands... did not spare the rod that spoiled the child (actually the rod was a "switch/branch" from a tree - we had to go and pick our own - and if we didn't pick one large enough, she would go and get a really big one!)  her hands ...would later hold us in a precious hug that let us know that it was "for our own good" and we were loved.  (We knew that we deserved every switching we got.)

HER hands ...once did needlepoint pictures that could hang in a gallery. ...once sewed aprons and dresses and crafts - even if it meant doing so on an old Singer trundle machine.

HER hands ...would tuck us in at night and make us feel safe and secure under a hand-made quilt. her hands ...would rub our fevered brows, and I declare our fever dropped a few degrees just from her touch. her hands ...would fix our soup and even feed us if need be to nurse us back to health.

Those hands are so weathered now, and are so weak and frail.  Her hands share a story of love and affection that only her children can tell.  

NOTE:  My mother is 91 years old and in a nursing home under hospice care.  Seems as though her life is close to the end now and I wanted to blog a tribute to her - Tommie Grace Marshall Fields.