We write this as Hurricane Dorian is churning its way up the Southeastern coast, leaving a trail of devastation in its way.
Our hearts grieve as we see photos and video of the chaos the massive storm left in the Bahamas. We worry what it will do to the homes and the lives of our friends and family members who live in Florida, Georgia, the Carolinas, and Virginia. It’s too soon to tell, and so for now all we can do is watch and wait.
And pray. Always pray.
It can be frustrating sometimes—whether in actual storms like Hurricane Dorian or “just” the storms of regular, everyday life—to wait for an outcome. We wait for the storm to hit so we can address what will happen. We wait for a medical diagnosis, or for test results. We wait for the outcome of a job search. We wait for an answer.
But there’s a strange and holy beauty in the waiting. It is a difficult place to be, but it is also a reminder. Nothing is really in our control, all of what we have is from God, and the circumstances of our life is never a sure thing. The only thing that is a sure thing? Our salvation in Jesus Christ and the almighty power of the Triune God.
There are times when waiting is celebrated. When a woman is pregnant, mother and father wait eagerly—sometimes anxiously—for their unborn child to arrive. Advent, the season leading up to Christmas, is another holy period of waiting, when we remember the coming of the Christ child and anticipate his return once
more... while except for God “nobody knows when that day or hour will come” (Matthew 24:36), we know it will come, and so we wait and prepare our hearts and our lives for when it does.
Now, as we wait for Hurricane Dorian to spin itself out into nothing off the Southeastern coast, we also prepare. We prepare our homes and pantries and cars, topping off gas tanks and buying bread and bottled water as we brace for the storm. We prepare our hearts as we ready ourselves to house evacuees and help survivors. We prepare our finances so we can offer aid in the aftermath. And as we prepare and wait, we pray.
We are so small within the storms of life, whether a hurricane off the coast or the general spinning of the world itself.
But we know as Christians we are held safe in the palm of our Father God—no matter what.