Thunderstorm

Right now, at this moment in time, metaphors abound.

Maybe I am extra thoughtful because I have abundant free time this summer, time to enjoy and then reflect, and then repeat. Or maybe I just finished reading The Fault in Our Stars, which drips in metaphor, both in dialogue and theme. Maybe it is a little of both. But I am compelled to share.

Three nights ago, there was a terrible thunderstorm in Vicksburg, Michigan. A thunderstorm the likes of which this town has never seen. Winds gusted up to 75 miles per hour and lightening struck in rapid fire succession. We awoke to howling winds and bright flashes of light, and spent an hour waiting in the center of the house. By the time the storm died down, the power was out and we were thoroughly spooked.

The morning after, the Butler’s lakefront property looked like a war zone. Trees were down, chairs and planters were scattered, the pontoon boat was grounded, and the dock submerged. The storm had wreaked havoc.

As we assessed the damage, my brain started thinking in metaphors. As I cut away branches and formed tidy piles, I pondered life in terms of trials and tribulations (yes, I just said tribulations!). I pondered the cyclical nature of nature, and of our days, weeks, months, and years. I pondered how a thunderstorm, so terrible it is deemed terrific, can be so unrelated, yet so related to our human existence.

After the thunderstorm, where we had no power as humans over the forces of nature and we huddled together in the safest spot, we emerged at dawn and assessed the damage. We have slowly begun the process of repair. The task will take more than just one day, and it will surely cost us. As we go along, we will discover more damage, or structural issues that may have existed for a long time and are just now surfacing.

We will get back up and running at full capacity, possibly with additional reinforcements or altogether new bells and whistles. The hope of new beginning with which we held will be realized. We will relish in newness and rebirth of a dream.

But in a while, it may be tomorrow, or it may be a few years from now, another storm will appear. And the cycle will be repeated. Maybe next time, we will anticipate situations more quickly and be more efficient. Maybe there will be less damage. Or maybe there will be more damage. Maybe none of the above.

And all the while, God’s grace goes ahead.