By Rick Hamlin
Praise for the Passing Storm
Why is it that the day after a storm offers the bluest of skies and the driest of cool air, not a leaf stirring? Why is it that after our own emotional storms and tempests, when we didn’t think we could hold on for much longer, there come these times of perfect calm, even more appreciated for following trouble or sorrow?
I could say a prayer of thanks after Irene passed, leaving us with little long-term damage beyond twigs and leaves to sweep up and towels to soak up the puddles in the basement. But did I remember to say that same thanks when a difficult moment passed, when the trouble was over, leaving peace in its wake?
The problem we face with any of life’s storms is that we don’t always know when they’re over, and even when they’ve passed they leave us with a greater sense of vulnerability or an inner jumpiness that makes us wary of any good news. At least they do for me. I wonder if the blue sky is a mirage, the dangerous eye of the storm, with winds ready to blow and rains to pelt on the other side.
All the more reason to praise the beautiful day now, the temperate wind, the friendly wave from the neighbor across the street as we both notice how unscathed the neighborhood is. May others be so blessed.
“Praise God in his sanctuary, praise him in his mighty firmament! Praise him for his mighty deeds. Praise him according to his exceeding greatness!” the psalmist says. Now is a time to be thankful and give praise. The good weather, all the more appreciated, is a gift; not to praise it is to miss the chance of recalibrating the soul’s natural emergency response mechanism and restore its resources.
There will be other storms, other troubles, but today is a chance for praise. “Let everything that breathes praise the Lord.”