Storm's-a-Brewing

  Even as I started to write this post I thought to myself, "This really doesn't have anything to do with what I'm learning."  Man, I don't really know what growth is then.  I posted earlier about how funny it is that God almost instantly allows opportunities in your life as soon as you say that you're going to challenge yourself with something like forgiveness.  After the euphoria of starting a blog and being enthralled that people actually read it, it's easy to forget that it's not about the publicity, or the kudos (both words of affirmation and the candy bars which are delicious by the way, or even about what other people think.  This is me and God doing business, and I just want to be honest with you all about where I struggle.  I'm not above knowing that I can sometimes do things for the wrong reasons, and any prayers beseeching God to remind me of why I started this would be great.  Bottom line, I'm giving you permission to Jesus Juke me if needed.  

   Like I just said, there's a pretty wild storm coming I feel.  I've felt this way for awhile.  I think that I perceived it as different things throughout the years.  First, in my longing to be done with this messed up world when I know that there's something far better and perfect ahead.  The idea of not having to pay bills was especially attractive to me for some reason, even though my Mom and Dad were paying all the bills at the time.  It then manifested in the injustice that happens everyday.  It still makes me squirm in my seat thinking that there is some kid out there somewhere not eating, afraid of his parents, or feeling like she has no way out of any number of horrible situations.  It makes me angry most of the time. 

  It's a lot like a storm really.  Everything seems normal and calm, but there's this darkness that looms over everything.  The clouds look menacing but your life is stable so you move on.  Then, when you're not paying attention, it hits.  If you're not ready it wrecks your world.  It tears at your roof and knocks down your trees.  It floods the basement and it breaks the windows.  And after all that, everything goes back to normal.  Except for all the destruction the storm brought.

  We had a very vivid picture of that a few weeks ago. I'm sure no one in Joplin, MO thought that May 22 would be the last day that their section of town would the way it had always been.  I can't imagine the horror of having your life scattered for miles by nothing more than two fronts meeting.  I also wonder what it must be like to see people from all over the country taking time off of their lives to come help.  See, in spite of how terrible the storm is, there's always that smell of rain afterwards.  It's like a reminder that things can be new again. 

   I certainly don't want to make light of what those people are going through right now.  My life is in no way as devastated as Joplin.  I have a good job.  My wife's healthy, and so is the baby that she carries.  I even have time during the week to do things that I want to do.  I guess it's the calm that gets me worried.  I don't want it to lull me into complacency.  I want the storm.  I don't want to ignore the clouds that are gathering around me right now.  If destruction of my carefully crafted, safe life is what it takes, then bring it on.  That's scary to type.  It's even scarier to confirm with God that I'm willing to commit to  that.  By being here you're like aid workers to my life.  No matter where you're at in life, just being here and helping me process means more than you will know.  It's my rain smell.