When The Clouds Come

 

When I get ready for bed at night, I have a routine that includes setting my alarm with my Amazon Alexa device and having her play "thunderstorm sounds," which helps me sleep faster. 

I love a good thunderstorm if I'm sheltered in my bedroom under the covers or on my back porch watching it rain. But if I'm caught outside when a storm arrives or driving down a two-lane country road, not so much.  

I attended a conference in a more rural part of Pennsylvania a few years ago. While driving back to my hotel, I received a notice on my phone asking me to take shelter because of tornados in the area. 

Instantly, I had images of the movie Twister in my head with me strapped by my belt to a pipe while my rental car was carried away by the swirling wind.  Also, Dorothy's house from The Wizard of Oz appeared in my head for some reason.  

Thankfully, I returned to the hotel without incident, but I needed to stop at the hotel bar after I got there to calm my nerves.  

There are seasons in life when you can't describe what's happening to you without using the word "storm."  

And the kinds of storms that arrive in life seldom announce themselves; there are no warnings, and you often discover that you are without shelter when they arrive.  No soothing thunderstorms from the safe confines of your house, no way to run from them, no avoiding what they bring. 

Despite this, I have seen the gathering clouds from those storms differently than I used to.  

They always used to fill me with dread, but now I'm beginning to see them as lovely in their own way. They often bring change, which may not be welcome, but still, these storms have their own kind of beauty.  

The other day, I read a poem from Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore that had this lovely line: 

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” 

This is a remarkable way to reframe the clouds that gather before a storm, is it not?  The poet doesn't see them as storm clouds any longer but as couriers of color, painting a sunset sky.  

In the last line, the poet alludes to his maturity. As he ages, he no longer frets over the storms that may come. Instead, he welcomes the color the gathering clouds bring to his life.  

You get the sense that he has been through enough storms throughout his life's journey, and he knows that even when the clouds come, and the wind and rain begin again, he will get through the storm because he already has, time and time again.

Now, he's just welcoming the color.  

How I  long to be like that, don't you?  It's like being reminded that no matter what happens to us, God is still making things new, bringing truth, beauty, and goodness into our lives even as the rain falls upon our faces.  

The peace that can be ours when we internalize this beautiful truth can change our lives.   While many of us have endured the storms of life and made it through them, the peace we are discussing can only come through surrender.  

May we find the courage to trust that God will be with us through the storms, just as God always has.  And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.