flying toward impending storms, through marshmallow clouds

I flew to Fort Walton Beach, Florida from Cincinnati a couple of weeks ago to be with Sarah's family at a competitive cheer competition. As we were getting ready for takeoff from Charleston, SC an announcement was made that went something like this:
"There is a storm front moving into the Fort Walton area. I think we can beat it, but things may get a little bumpy when we get close."
I guess a normal person may have been alarmed by that, especially after overhearing a fellow passenger talk about how she was on this flight because her flight to Clearwater, FL had been cancelled due to an impending storm. But I have never been accused of being normal. 

My seatmate on the plane from Cincinnati to Charleston was a personable, friendly but not over-friendly Puerto Rican man. Time passed quickly with someone to chat with. My seatmate from Charleston to Fort Walton was also male, but very different. This guy was all business. No conversation, not even hello. No smile. No eye contact. I spent 95% of that flight looking out of the window at this: continuous dense white clouds, no visibility beyond the wing. I likened it to flying through a giant marshmallow when I told Beth and Sarah about it.

I could tell when we were getting close to the real storm front. It is hard to see, but rain began streaking the window. The "fasten seatbelt" sign lit up. There was a little turbulence. I didn't think it was possible, but visibility grew worse. I could barely see the tip of the wing now. 

On the heels of the first "bumps in the air" a thought immediately came to mind: "This is not the pilot's first storm. He knows what he is doing. He has instruments to guide him. I trust that he is going to safely land this plane." And rather than be afraid, I was delighted by the pattern of raindrops racing across the window. Soon we were on the ground without incident. 

What a difference in visibility.

Since that flight I keep thinking about the storms in my life. Some are the result of choices I have made, but most, now that I know and have learned how to follow Jesus closer, are caused by situations or circumstances I have absolutely no control over. The reason I do not live in fear or dread is I know who is in control of the storm. I know who gives the storm maker the ok to bring them into my life. And I know without a doubt that the One who gives permission is much more powerful than the one bringing or causing the storm. 

Satan, the storm stirrer has limited power. 

He likes to try to convince me he is in control. That he can destroy me. 

Satan has lots of experience but not clear vision. 

He has not learned from past experiences that he can go no farther than God allows him to go. 
(Reference Job's life.)

He cannot stir up more than God permits him to stir. 

He only sees what is in front of him.
(Reference Good Friday, "in between/waiting/silent/mourning Saturday", and Resurrection Sunday. Do you think Satan would have been quite so intent on killing Jesus if he had know the power of the Resurrection? I think not.)

It is examples like Job and Jesus death, burial and Resurrection along with personal experiences that enable my soul to rest. That allow me to live with confidence, even when I am feeling less than brave. Because I know that whatever storm is looming before me, or I find myself entering, surrounded by or coming out of, this is not God's first storm. 

God knows what I am facing.

God sees what I cannot see. 

He surrounds me.

He carries me. 

He protects me.

Without a doubt, the storm might be frightening, 
but I do not have to live in fear. 

Yes, darkness may loom large, obscuring my vision, 
but I can live in the light and clarity and comfort of His presence.

Lightening may flash, temporarily blinding me.
Thunder may boom, loud enough to shake me to the core.
Winds may whip and threaten to destroy or carry off all that is around me. 
Rain may pelt me.
Hail may batter me.

But I rest.
Flooded with peace.
Having learned by experience that even when I am by myself, I am not alone. 

God is near. 

I live convinced, and therefore trusting, that God will carry His children through each and every storm we face. 

Assured that we will land safely wherever it is He wants us to land. 

We are not alone.

And our storm is not the first storm He has navigated.

"One day He got into a boat with His disciples, and He said to them, “Let us go across to the other side of the lake.” So they set out, and as they sailed He fell asleep. And a windstorm came down on the lake, and they were filling with water and were in danger. And they went and woke Him, saying, “Master, Master, we are perishing!” And He awoke and rebuked the wind and the raging waves, and they ceased, and there was a calm. He said to them, “Where is your faith?” And they were afraid, and they marveled, saying to one another, “Who then is this, that He commands even winds and water, and they obey Him?” Luke 8:22-25

God has the power to calm any storm, and He may do just that. But experience has taught me that more often than not, He calms and comforts and strengthens me through the storm. Especially dense, thick, sticky, hard to see through ones.