Contentment in the Chaos
I was walking back from a meeting the other night and, as my luck would have it, the moment my feet hit the sidewalk it started to rain. Like downpour. My first reaction was to break into a sprint across campus in order to avoid ruining my phone, bible, and already untamed hair. After a solid couple minutes of my enthusiastic run, my heart was pounding and I was already quite wet. But don't worry, I made it back in one sopping wet and breathless piece. I reached my room, threw my stuff on my bed, and walked back out into the storm.
Yep.
I walked back out into the storm.
It sounds silly, but something was drawing me back out into the chaos.
As I walked through the pouring rain, soaking wet and shivering, I realized both the beauty and danger of the experience. Storms have a breathtaking power. Lightening flashing. Water raging. Thunder crashing. Clouds looming with an eerie darkness. It reminded me of the past few years of my life. Filled with death, sorrow, and the unknown, it has been a terrifying season.
I watched all of these people running through the storm trying to remain untouched. The umbrellas, rain boots, jackets . . . so many tools to protect them from getting wet. Nobody wants to sit down in a storm. It would be absolutely crazy. To sit in the midst of such raging chaos goes against who we are. It would mean letting the power of the storm penetrate our clothes. It would be subjecting ourselves to something greater than us, something out of our control, something with the power to alter us for better or for worse. The ironic thing about the entire scene was that everyone eventually had to walk outside to get from point A to point B.
Each of us have unique and terrifying storms that are playing a monumental part in shaping our story. We are all in the midst of a downpour that threatens to tear us a part. Yet, we do not want to acknowledge the pain, much less actually feel it. It has almost become normal to run through a storm, screaming, stressing, and striving to escape untouched.
I am sure I looked a little out of place, drenched, sitting on a bench alone in the midst of a thunder storm. Multiple people who were running by asked me if I was ok. One guy straight up told me that I was crazy.
But something clicked for me on that little bench. I felt the raindrops pelt my outstretched hands and wash over my fragile body. I began to feel content amidst the chaos. Song lyrics came to mind:
"So I'll stop searching for the answers. I'll stop praying for an escape. And I'll trust you God with where I am and believe that you will have your way."
I think God sent me out into that storm to show me a glimpse of my life and how it fits in to the greater story. I do not understand the suffering. It is powerful and scary and effects every part of me. I am tempted to flee like most, but I think God is inviting me to see a deeper part of Him amidst the rain. He is giving me a song to sing in the darkest and coldest moments. He is reminding me of who He is and how He is working on my behalf.
"Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock." (Matthew 7:24-25)
The rain will fall. The floods will come. The winds will blow and threaten to destroy you.
The question is not "Will I ever have to face a storm?" We live in a fallen world and cannot escape the dark seasons. Instead, the question is "Who is your rock when the storms come? Who are you clinging to?"
Two weeks into college and almost everyone is wrestling with this question, even if they do not know it. We are all in the unknown, trying to belong, and striving to figure out who we are and who we want to be. I wonder if we seek God's goodness no matter the season or storm, if we might find ourselves along the way.
Yes, storms are dangerous and terrifying, but they carry the power to bring about change. They wash away the old, and prepare the way for the new. A certain cleansing takes place when you simply let yourself rest out in the storm without the intent to flee.
Yep.
I walked back out into the storm.
It sounds silly, but something was drawing me back out into the chaos.
As I walked through the pouring rain, soaking wet and shivering, I realized both the beauty and danger of the experience. Storms have a breathtaking power. Lightening flashing. Water raging. Thunder crashing. Clouds looming with an eerie darkness. It reminded me of the past few years of my life. Filled with death, sorrow, and the unknown, it has been a terrifying season.
I watched all of these people running through the storm trying to remain untouched. The umbrellas, rain boots, jackets . . . so many tools to protect them from getting wet. Nobody wants to sit down in a storm. It would be absolutely crazy. To sit in the midst of such raging chaos goes against who we are. It would mean letting the power of the storm penetrate our clothes. It would be subjecting ourselves to something greater than us, something out of our control, something with the power to alter us for better or for worse. The ironic thing about the entire scene was that everyone eventually had to walk outside to get from point A to point B.
Each of us have unique and terrifying storms that are playing a monumental part in shaping our story. We are all in the midst of a downpour that threatens to tear us a part. Yet, we do not want to acknowledge the pain, much less actually feel it. It has almost become normal to run through a storm, screaming, stressing, and striving to escape untouched.
I am sure I looked a little out of place, drenched, sitting on a bench alone in the midst of a thunder storm. Multiple people who were running by asked me if I was ok. One guy straight up told me that I was crazy.
But something clicked for me on that little bench. I felt the raindrops pelt my outstretched hands and wash over my fragile body. I began to feel content amidst the chaos. Song lyrics came to mind:
"So I'll stop searching for the answers. I'll stop praying for an escape. And I'll trust you God with where I am and believe that you will have your way."
I think God sent me out into that storm to show me a glimpse of my life and how it fits in to the greater story. I do not understand the suffering. It is powerful and scary and effects every part of me. I am tempted to flee like most, but I think God is inviting me to see a deeper part of Him amidst the rain. He is giving me a song to sing in the darkest and coldest moments. He is reminding me of who He is and how He is working on my behalf.
"Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock." (Matthew 7:24-25)
The rain will fall. The floods will come. The winds will blow and threaten to destroy you.
The question is not "Will I ever have to face a storm?" We live in a fallen world and cannot escape the dark seasons. Instead, the question is "Who is your rock when the storms come? Who are you clinging to?"
Two weeks into college and almost everyone is wrestling with this question, even if they do not know it. We are all in the unknown, trying to belong, and striving to figure out who we are and who we want to be. I wonder if we seek God's goodness no matter the season or storm, if we might find ourselves along the way.
Yes, storms are dangerous and terrifying, but they carry the power to bring about change. They wash away the old, and prepare the way for the new. A certain cleansing takes place when you simply let yourself rest out in the storm without the intent to flee.
