A high school classmate of mine will bury his 18 year-old son today. He died in a car accident over the weekend in College Station along with another passenger who lives in a community just outside of Austin. Let’s just go ahead and say what we’re all thinking: Every parent’s worst nightmare. When I heard the news, I did what most every other mom of a teen would do: I sent a long novel of a message on Facebook to my own college kid. It included the standard, timely reminders we often preach to our driving teens: Don’t text and drive. Don’t talk on your phone while driving. Look both ways before crossing through an intersection. Wear a seat belt. Don’t drink. But if you cave into the temptation to drink, certainly don’t drink and drive or get in the car with anyone who has been drinking and driving. Forget driving, son — mom will be your designated driver from this moment forward and shuttle you wherever you need to go. Okay, I didn’t say the last one, but I wanted to. In fact, I wanted to head on over to his dorm on the UT campus, scoop him up, bring him home, and tuck him into his old Toy Story bedsheets in his bedroom just down the hall. Isn’t that always a mother’s response? How can I fix the problem and avoid this kind of pain?

Ironically, when I heard news of the accident, I had just wrapped up a women’s event in Huntsville, Alabama and shared a message entitled, “Surviving the Storms of Life.” It was an amazing event and I had the opportunity to meet many of the women and hear about their own personal survival stories related to storms they have experienced in their lives. One grandmother had just lost her only granddaughter in a car accident this past November. Another woman shared through a cardboard testimony that her husband had left her for her best friend. Other women shared stories of sexual abuse, depression, health issues, addictions, and other storms that had come out of no where and forced them to adjust to “a new normal.” Within hours of the event ending, I received a text from my brother regarding my high school classmate’s son. Another storm. Another family. Another new normal.

Honestly, I don’t know how people survive storms without a foundation of faith in place. One of the survival tips I shared in my message is: “Run for shelter.” Shelters can protect us from physical storms and often, save lives. Likewise, we need a shelter when the storms of life hit. I love this line in the classic hymn “My Hope is Built” (1834): “His oath, his covenant, his blood supports me in the whelming flood. When all around my soul gives way, he then is all my hope and stay. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.” Let me ask you — when all around your soul gives way, what, or who, is your “hope and stay?” Where do you run when the winds and the waves kick up and you feel as if you may drown in a sea of sorrow? Many run to temporary shelters — friends, loved ones, even church. Others run to familiar escapes — alcohol, drugs, food, shopping, Netflix, hobbies, video games, Facebook. And some, realizing their need in the moment for an almighty God, run straight into the arms of the One who calmed the raging storm on the Sea of Galilee (Matthew 4:35-41) with three simple words: “Peace, be still.”

I love the disciples response, who were in the boat with Jesus after the wind and waves died down in obedience to His command. They asked, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” I find that question strangely ironic, given the disciples had witnessed Jesus heal Simon’s mother in law, heal many others that gathered at his door, cast out demons, cleanse a leper; heal a paralytic and a man with a withered hand. And that was just a sampling of the miracles they had witnessed prior to the storm. Regardless, when the storm blew in, their eyes were on the wind and the waves, rather than the one who could calm the wind and the waves. Isn’t that our nature? Focus our attention on the storm rather than the one who says, “Peace, be still?” Oswald Chambers offers this bit of wisdom regarding trials and tribulations: “Notion your mind with the idea that God is there.  If once the mind is notioned along that line, then when you are in difficulties it is as easy as breathing to remember—Why, my Father knows all about it!  It is not an effort; it comes naturally when perplexities press.  Before, you used to go to this person and that, but now the notion of the Divine control is forming so powerfully in you that you go to God about it.”

Do you know this Jesus, who is able to calm the storm with three simple words: “Peace, be still?” Don’t wait until you see a flash of lightening and the rain begins to pour down all around you to find a shelter. Start building your shelter today. Pronto. The best time to build a storm shelter is before the storm comes. When the weather is sunny and the skies are clear. Storms are certain in this life. No one is exempt. The women I met at the Huntsville event can attest to that. My high school classmate would surely offer an “amen.” He has posted on his son’s memorial page that God knew the number of days ordained for his son. Yes, he in fact, did. Our God is a sovereign God. Rain or shine, he is in charge of the forecast. And as painful a truth as that is to wrap our finite minds around, he has not left us to weather the storms alone. I’ve heard it said, “smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.” Storms are often the very thing that drive us into the arms of God almighty. Our hope and stay.

While on a run yesterday, I was listening to my playlist of favorite worship choruses and  praying for the women of Huntsville and my high school classmate and his family. While praying, God of My Days began to play. I was struck by the words, “sovereign in sorrow” and “constant companion.” The words are so powerful, I wanted to pass them along to you. Storms are coming and when they do, know this: He is sovereign in sorrow. He’ll meet you in mourning and speak to your grief. He’ll be a light in your darkness. He’ll never leave you. He is faithful. But, he wants to be your constant companion — not just your shelter on rainy days. And that begins today, when the skies are clear … before the storms come.

 

You awaken my heart
From slumbering
Meet me in mourning
And you speak to my grief

You’re the light in my darkness
The delight of my eyes
The hope of the daybreak
When the sun’s slow to rise

I trust that every moment’s in your hands
You’re the God of my days
The King of my nights
Lord of my laughter
Sovereign in sorrow
You’re the Prince of my praise
The love of my life
You never leave me
You are faithful
God of my days

You unveil my eyes
Help me to see
The arms of my Father
Encircling me
You’re a constant companion
I am never alone
Your love is the banner
That’s leading me home

I trust that every moment’s in your hands
You’re the God of my days
The King of my nights
Lord of my laughter
Sovereign in sorrow
You’re the Prince of my praise
The love of my life
You never leave me
You are faithful
God of my days

(c) Gateway Worship