In the Eye of the Storm

The end of August felt like anguish to me. It eerily reminded me of the difficult year I had in Mozambique. Everything swirling around me, like in a cyclone, one thing after another after another, making it hard to catch my breath.

Earlier this year, my spring class focused on abiding in God, surrendering to Him, stepping aside, and letting Him live His life through me. It was such a beautiful thing. Truths I had heard before finally clicked. My favorite illustration from the class was that in the storms of life, focusing on God is like sitting in the eye of a storm, watching it swirl around you but unaffected by it.

The summer storm built up slowly at first. My team leaders were gone. I hosted a 5-Day Club at the end of July. Midweek, our short-term lady arrived, and I started showing her the ropes. My team leaders returned, and we buckled down on preparations for our big Back-to-School picnic. Things were getting busier, like wind levels increasing.

Then, the week before the big picnic, my grandma fell. Geraldo and I knew her time had come, so we drove the 2 1/2 hours to say goodbye. She passed away a few days before the picnic. All year, she had talked about going home to be with the Lord, but I wasn't ready for the timing of it. It was already going to be the busiest weekend of my year, with a friend's wedding celebration the day after the big picnic and a family event the day after that, all in separate locations. Oh, yeah, and one of my master's classes started the day after that. I felt the air around me grow stifling, the storm ramping up.

In the middle of that weekend, I got a phone call. Lightning flashed. Something I had been anticipating for almost a year got ripped away from me. Sheets of rain hit my face. Geraldo dropped everything in that moment to come help me process my emotions. He would move heaven and earth to stop me from being in pain if he could. Not that it was just disappointment from the phone call, but a buildup of emotions from everything accumulating around me.

I reminded myself that the shock from the phone call was no surprise to God. He foresaw all the events leading up to that decision being made. I had to accept it. I had to keep going. I had to be at my grandma's funeral. I had to get my school assignments done. I had to continue doing my job. I couldn't stop. 

The problem with storms is that they can be so distracting, filling your whole vision. Instead of increasing my time with God to compensate for everything swirling around me, I did my regular devotion every morning, checked it off, then moved on to the next task of the day. A week after my grandma's funeral, I realized that mistake. I recognized my need to quiet myself before Him. Did doing that make the storm disappear? No, the storm intensified.

On my way to meet my parents for a quick supper, before my dad's cancer group, the final blow hit. What felt like the biggest yet. Drops of water hit my cheeks again as my heart wrestled with raging emotions. "God, what do you want me to do with this?" I cried. Suddenly, peace permeated me. I had lifted my eyes to God and found myself standing in the eye of the storm.

I knew what decision He wanted me to make. He'd been trying to tell me all along, I had just been too busy to slow down and listen, barreling ahead of Him. The storm is starting to dissipate, or at least slow down, though I wonder if it's more from sitting with God in the midst of these difficulties. I'm still buffeted a little by life's problems or people's opinions, but I'm learning to recenter myself again. God's opinion matters more to me than anything else. And sitting in His presence? Is life itself. Like sitting in the eye of a storm watching it rage around you, but completely unaffected by it.