I still remember the afternoon we met the specialist at the
hospital. The words she used were
terrifying, phrases like “blood incompatibility and potential harm” rolled off
her tongue with an ease that made me cringe.
My life was about to change and I wasn’t aware I was going in for more
than a check-up. During that hour long visit,
I learned about a crisis I didn’t understand, heard a language I didn’t speak
and met a list of characters I didn’t know existed. That would have been fine but it was my
crisis, my life and my future we were discussing. I remember holding my husband’s hand tightly
and trying to breathe and crying: I remember a lot of crying.
**********
The morning was grey, cold and gusty. The wind was picking up and the forecast was
calling for a storm to hit. For many people, that means an afternoon indoors, but for a certain few
it means bundling up and heading to the water for a walk. My Dad taught me that there are gems to
be seen during storms which are not visible at any other time: be
it an eagle or a seal riding their respective currents, storms are for catching
sight of treasure. Consequently, I called for a family outing as the winds started. My family hustled to get ready and out the door we went. Which is how twenty minutes later I found
myself in inclement weather with a handful of the Pacific Northwest’s
finest.
I love the sight of those who come out in storms. I enjoy smiling at those who walk by, hunched
over by the wind, rain stinging our faces as we peer out to give each other a
knowing smile: “Yep. We are amazing, this is the best.” But something else entirely takes over when I
see those who have come out with the sole intention to play in a storm. My gut reaction is a primal thrill that makes
me want to scream for joy. Our area is replete with outdoor enthusiasts and if you are lucky, you can watch such a person display their mastery, the bad weather enhancing rather than weakening their performance. Their ability to manage the increased
pressures in their environment allows them to reach heights in their sport that cannot be
attained in regular weather.
The wind blowing off the water was icy and hit the van head
on we entered the parking lot. Looking
to the water, I spotted a lone parachute, the insane person attached to the
contraption not yet visible. I ran toward the water, my family following
behind. There beyond the pylons, were
two brave souls: a kite boarder and windsurfer hurling over the slate grey
seas. I was overjoyed. We watched them for quite a while, skipping
off waves and leaping in the air on their boards, as our extremities cooled and
our ears began to ache. The windsurfer
hurled into shore for a few moments before heading back out again. My children watched overjoyed at the
sight. They claimed the weather was “perfect”
as they stood on shore in rapt admiration.
We marched down the board walk in an attempt to stop hypothermia from
taking hold. Cormorants, scoters and
gulls dove and played in the waves as we strolled by admiring their buoyancy and
fishing abilities. Walking down the pier
we observed old men tend their crab pots as the waters below the dock
churned. We held our course until our
youngest declared she was turning numb and headed back toward the beach. Managing the cold for about ninety minutes I’d
call it a successful blustery outing.
Climbing back into the van, I was thinking about
storms. You can’t go through a trial in
Christendom without running headlong into a storm metaphor somewhere in your
experience. Whether you look online or
in print, you will find parallels drawn between periods of suffering and the
weathering of storms. I find such teachings deeply comforting. Many liken storms to testing, a process
wherein God refines your character as you experience circumstances beyond human
control. To survive a storm there seems
to be an essential component of surrender, a place wherein those suffering
accept the inconvenience and pain of their circumstance, in order endure the
time allotted to their suffering. Sadly that would not be me. My first reaction is to protest and feel persecuted. It isn't natural for me to don a positive attitude or to metaphorically hop on a board, grab a parachute and find anything enjoyable about my winds of misfortune. I’d rather whimper.
But what is a person to do, when providence has decided that
you will remain in a storm until the terror in your heart subsides? What if the purpose of your storm is to build
a testimony for others: a testimony of overcoming and the faithfulness of God? Well, I can tell you quite honestly that is
the space where many a bad attitude has been born and has died. Yes, I am
speaking from experience. If you are
like me (and I pray that you aren’t) you are more interested in getting out of
the storm than staying in it. Be darned
if you are in the surf beside me! Go on YouTube
and find your own sermon, I’m trying to tread water without drowning.
Of course dear friend, this is not the purpose of our
storms. The purpose of storms is that
we, by God’s grace, overcome them and provide comfort for others who come after
us. This is how testimonies and
ministries are born. If someone is facing a
cancer diagnosis, the first person they will call is one who has been
through the trial in order to gain wisdom and insight. It’s hard to minister to a friend if you are
curled up in the fetal position under your bed.
Yet this is where I’m inclined to want to stay when storms strike, nursing my own hurts and
wounds.
Our children declared that only hot chocolate could warm
their frozen bodies and so we stopped inside a grocery store equipped with a beverage
stand. My husband went off to hunt lunch
in the isles while I ordered drinks. I
sighed, musing on storms, wind surfers and whether or not I would ever manage
to endure my trial with grace and patience.
It was then (without a word of a lie) I saw the barista look up at the ceiling
and say to another customer, “Yes, he came in here about an hour ago. Maybe it was to get out of the weather.” I looked up.
There in the rafters, was this fellow. He’s a hawk in case you can’t tell and no, he
isn’t made for the indoors, regardless of the rough weather outside. Looks
wrong doesn’t it? I was immediately
taken with thoughts for his survival, “Hey sir, you need to get out of
here. This is no place for you.” Though
I cannot say that God spoke to me directly, it did make me think that I was
being given an illustrated example of why God’s people must resist the temptation
to lie down and give up when confronted by adversity. I suspect it is because we were made by God
to overcome it.
So as we move again into a new year, my thoughts are with
you dear friend. The coming year is
bound to hold victories and defeats for all as well as a storm or two. My prayer starting with myself is that
despite the pain and suffering we will be able to withstand trials with by the
grace he provides. By loving the Lord
with all our heart, mind and strength we might decide to learn in our adversity
knowing that there is great value in pain and much to be learned in times of
adversity. I pray that we would grow
brave not faint and that God would deliver us from our fears.
The crying stopped eventually. As I was welcomed and knit into my corner of
the medical community, I learned that my trial was not impossible but lonely, scary
and occasionally painful. Despite my
unhappiness, those adverse experiences did not kill me and I grew less
fearful. Then one day, the season of
trial left as suddenly as it came. When
a couple years later, a friend happened upon a similar experience, I was able
to provide the support and hope she needed to endure. I could speak to her fear and failings as not
one else could. I could even crack a
joke now and then that would have her laughing.
Over the years, I have sought out those who struggle the same way I
did. It might not be as brave as
strapping a board on my feet and grabbing a parachute, but its pretty close.
**********
Happy New Year Dear Friend,
xox Karen
