After the storm.

I’ve never been in a really bad storm. You know, the Katrina type. Having many friends in the south and almost as many in the Caribbean I can only live vicariously through their experiences. They tell me that going through a hurricane is one of the most horrifying things one can imagine. The indescribable noise, the rumbling and shaking of things that shouldn’t, the destruction and fear of it—it’s pretty much an ordeal that I am happy to have dodged.

On the rare occasion of a hurricane or tornado threat in our area, preparatory warnings and survival instruction are free-flowing. The storm supercedes the news of the day on all the TV channels and at every water cooler. And so the scurry begins to stock up on plywood, batteries, canned goods and eggs. For some, consolation can only be found on an evacuation route leading to safety.

But I have in my “young” life—don’t correct me J—experienced some figurative “storms.” Let me say first that I consider myself to be exceedingly blessed. I have a wonderful family, fantastic friends, the best church in the world, I could go on and on. When I look at what others have endured, the notion that I’ve had a hard life is laughable. Ridiculous. God has been more than good to me. Maybe that’s why storms in my life are so memorable to me—much like the infrequent “real” storms here in our area of the country. And maybe that’s why they are seemingly so hard. I’m not really sure. Maybe I’m just a wimp. Maybe all of the above.

I’ve been through a storm—really recently. There are many reasons why I won’t go into detail, the most prevalent being—it’s none of your business!! Just kidding. The specifics are not important. You might ask, “then why blog about it?” You know, that’s a great question. For me, blogging forces me to think about the situation in a logical way. It’s a form of verbalizing something personal—which is not one of my strong suits. In fact, my inability to properly do that has prompted a storm or two.

Basically, blogging helps. There is no other agenda here.

But I’m getting off point. Like I said, everybody seems to have advice on how to prepare for an actual storm and how to weather it. Similarly there are innumerable sermons, devotionals, poems and songs on how to handle the storms of life. (Even now tunes are going through my head). And trust me. I have read the verses, sung the songs, and prayed the prayers. It still wasn’t easy, but these things sure help. The relevant truth being that God’s grace is so sufficient! How could we survive without it?

But somebody please tell me where the Cliffs Notes are for dealing with the aftermath of the storm. So you made it through. You survived the devastation. But a careful survey of the landscape presents a striking reality. Things like emotions, perceptions and even relationships have been uprooted and strewn all over the place. What was “normal” is not normal anymore. There is a lot of cleanup to be done.

Then, the most candid of all realities sets in. Things will never, ever be the same.

So what do you do? What happens after the storm?

One thing I have learned as someone who is expected to have all the right answers is that I don’t. The more I live, the more I realize how very little I know. I have also found that theory is no substitute for experience. So what I share now is based on two things: my understanding of the Word of God and my own personal, limited and current experience.

First, evaluation. What in the world happened? I think this is important to ask because every trial—whether self-inflicted, not self-inflicted, or something in between—is allowed of God. Sometimes storms are God’s chastening. Jonah’s headline could have read: “FLEEING PROPHET SUBJECTED TO WAVE WHIPPING AND INTESTINAL INCARCERATION.” These are the worst. Basically it’s God taking us to the woodshed. Not fun. Then, there are storms God allows in order to test us and strengthen our dependence on Him. Satan often has his fingerprints all over these. Furthermore, there are those storms that we basically bring upon ourselves, and though God allows them, He might have preferred to teach us in a less turbulent way.

The point is, that there is always something to be learned from the storm. What is God trying to teach me? What is He doing in my life? What is He sparing me from? What should I have done differently?

Without evaluation, particularly of my own actions, the pain and devastation is in vain. Every situation in life—whether good or bad—brings with it a lesson in experience that can’t be gained from a book. And when there are people involved, there is the great likelihood that somebody, perhaps me, coulda-shoulda-woulda done things differently. Such are the often uncomfortable lessons of life.

Second, forgiveness. This is surely a two-way street, as forgiveness is either a request or a responsibility. If I am honest, I’ll probably come to the point where I need to be on the receiving end of this two-way street. “I AM SORRY.” Three rarely used words in our language. I have learned that as soon as I realize that I have done wrong, it’s time to ask for forgiveness—of God and of others. If I don’t do it right away I’ll either talk myself out of it, justify my actions, blame shift or minimize the seriousness of what I’ve done.

Many times the aftermath of the storm requires you to be the forgiver. The Bible tells us,” But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses” (Mark 11:26). I can’t get forgiveness from God if I don’t forgive others. It’s that simple.

By the way, our forgiveness of others is required whether or not it is sought. When I feel wronged, when I feel mistreated and misunderstood, I have the responsibility to forgive even if the “forgivee” doesn’t ask for it or admit wrongdoing. I also must fight—really, really fight—the urge to retaliate or to seek revenge. None of this is easy. But it is right. And it’s the only way to clean up after the storm.

Finally, rebuilding. Too often people fail to recover from the pain and destruction of a trial. Their life remains a permanent picture of devastation. This is more tragic than the storm itself, because God wants to make something good out of bad. Consider Joseph’s life. He was hated by his brothers, yet he still dared to dream. He was thrown into a pit and sold into slavery, but he demonstrated character and scored the dream job. When the boss’ wife falsely accused him and landed him in prison, he maintained his resourcefulness and became a favored prisoner. Eventually he discovered his destiny when Pharaoh chose him to save the world. He had come a long way from his pitfalls. But it wasn’t by accident. In every case he made lemonade. He stayed faithful to God. He didn’t stay down, he got up. And in the end, just like after a real storm, the final product was far better than what he had before the wind even started blowing.

Rebuilding takes work. Again, I’m no expert, but here’s what has helped me on the recovery road:

1. I fell on my face. It was time for a real heart-to-heart with God. Tears had been shed over and over. Forgiveness had been acquired and the requests for grace were abundant. But now it was time to commune. It was time to fellowship with MY God. It was time to fortify the most important relationship in my life. It was time to hover under the shelter in the time of storm. It was time to thank Him for the storm—as hard as that is to do.
2. I got into the Word. Nothing is more comforting than God’s Word. His precious promises, the reminder of His faithfulness, embracing the reality of His goodness and forgiveness.
3. I clung to my most cherished possessions. It is such a mistake to focus on the things lost in the storm rather than on the things that I still have. My amazing wife, my beautiful children, my extended family and my invaluable friendships—they’re all still here! God has a way of augmenting our appreciation for the blessings in our lives. After the storm, my family seems more special than ever. After the storm my friends seem more encouraging. Sure, the loss is really hard. The storm created a painful void. But what remains is priceless and deserves to be loved and embraced more than ever before.
4. I made some changes. This might be the hardest part of the rebuilding process. But it’s not so bad with the realization that change can be good. Sometimes we have to make tough choices, decisions we’d rather not, all for the greater good. This will make us better equipped for the next storm or able to avoid it altogether. We make changes with the faith and assurance that it’s going to be alright. It's gonna be better than alright!

So that’s my post-storm blog. As honest as I can be. Maybe what helped me can help you in the aftermath of your particular storm.

“For thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm…” Isaiah 25:4