Monday, March 1, 2010

Hope Rises From The Storm

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." -- Hebrews 6:19

It's been three years since the tornado. Everyone in Southeast Alabama knows the one I mean. It struck the high school, killing eight students as they sat in a hall. It also killed Mrs. Edna as she watched the storm through her living room window.

It touched every life in this sleepy town. It forever shattered our illusion of safety. Oh, we'd had tornadoes before. But not like this. It destroyed the high school and the elementary school right next door. It destroyed homes and businesses across an eight mile stretch. It filled us with stories of miracles and horror, of strength and anguish. For a moment in time, the media and disaster teams descended with their particular frenzy. Then they left, and we were faced with an emptiness that comes with loss.

The deep grief for the families is unimaginable. I am grateful for those who are secure in their hope, in their knowledge, that this paintful separation is only temporary. They will see their loved ones again. I can't imagine facing a day without that security.

For those of us not directly impacted, we remember the lessons from that day. We have a new understanding of how quickly life can change. No one expected a block wall that had existed for decades to collapse. But the unexpected does happen.

So do the miracles. Like my friend who squeezed in a closet just before the storm hit and emerged to find that it was the only thing left standing. No other wall existed. I'm not talking about the other walls were knocked down. They was gone, along with all her possessions. There are numerous stories just like hers.

I am so grateful that we have an anchor in the midst of this uncertain world. God gives us strength to withstand any tragedy. He gives us hope amid so much devastation. He is solid and secure when everything around us collapses. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your life and your death. Thank you for loving us and providing us with eternity in your arms.