Shelter in the Storm
We had been warned. News alerts and weather apps had all told us a big, wild, prairie thunderstorm was brewing in Montana and would strike central North Dakota sometime in the early morning. We tracked the radar as the storm progressed, but we went to bed at 11 p.m. because we thought the storm predictions weren’t too serious.
The storm gained in strength and intensity while we slumbered, unaware, in our beds. At 1:30 a.m., the worst storm in at least eighty years rocked our prairie farm. Century-old trees were fiercely tossed about by the 130-mph winds, splitting and cracking and tearing apart. Rain came from every direction. The house creaked and groaned under the strain.
My husband and I could do nothing but watch from windows that flexed in and out with the pressure changes. The night sky was lit with constant lightning, arcing and striking. The thunder and roar of the wind were almost deafening. We were powerless in the face of such raw and tremendous power.
I’ve never been witness to such an incredible and powerful experience as that storm. And I’ve never felt as helpless.
It lasted for only forty minutes, and in the darkness that followed, we had no idea what damage had been wrought. Then dawn crept over the eastern horizon, and the gray light illuminated a scene of massive destruction. Not just limbs, but entire trees were down. Farm animals were, at the very least, scattered and frightened. Some were dead.
As I surveyed the scene of our farm, my mind went to Psalm 121:1–8 (NLV):
I will lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth. He will not let your feet go out from under you. He Who watches over you will not sleep. Listen, He Who watches over Israel will not close his eyes or sleep.
The Lord watches over you. The Lord is your safe cover at your right hand. The sun will not hurt you during the day and the moon will not hurt you during the night. The Lord will keep you from all that is sinful. He will watch over your soul. The Lord will watch over your coming and going, now and forever.
No matter what storm rages against or within us, the Lord is there. He doesn’t close his eyes and he doesn’t sleep. When you hear the diagnosis, when the marriage crumbles, when grief for a loved one or a lost dream overcomes you, he is there. He is our safe cover.
A friend of mine has endured what most of us would consider unbearable tragedy. Time and again, her heart swelled with expectation only to be dashed against the rocks in grief. She was broken and bleeding from this personal storm. As we prayed together, this passage in Exodus came to mind: “God said [to Moses], “Look, here is a place right beside me. Put yourself on this rock. When my Glory passes by, I’ll put you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with my hand until I’ve passed by. Then I’ll take my hand away and you’ll see my back. But you won’t see my face” (Exodus 33:21–23 MSG).
My prayer for you—and for her—is that when storms come, and they will, you’ll set yourself upon the Rock. That as the storm rages, you’ll hide yourself in the cleft and take shelter under God’s hand.
When the storm passes and you emerge into that gray, predawn light, you’ll see destruction, but also glorious hope. The morning after the Deadly Friday Storm (named by my nine-year-old son) was beautiful. The sun shone brightly, the raindrops sparkled on the grass, the sky was a brilliant blue. If we averted our eyes from the destruction around us, it was gorgeous. We can be thankful for those moments of beauty amid our mess.
You might think God seems silent in your storm, that you don’t feel his hand covering you. When that happens, Glorious Table contributor Melinda Mattson encourages us to draw near to God, to seek him and hear his voice.
God promises to be with us in our storms. But he also promises that there will be an end to the storms of life. The glorious promise of life everlasting will bring an end to the suffering we endure here on earth:
When this that can be destroyed has been changed into that which cannot be destroyed, and when this that does die has been changed into that which cannot die, then it will happen as the Holy Writings said it would happen. They said, “Death has no more power over life.” O death, where is your power? O death, where are your pains?” (1 Corinthians 15:54–55 NLV)
The old hymn “He Hideth My Soul” is a beautiful reminder of God’s promise to us. The BESY Choir shares a lovely version.
Hide your soul in the cleft of the rock. Let the storm rage. God covers you there with his very hand.
is rooted like a turnip to the plains of North Dakota where she raises great food, large numbers of farm animals, and three free-range kids with her husband. You can find her with either a book or knitting needles in her hands as she dreams up her next adventure.
Photograph © Josep Castells, used with permission
