A Prayer For Hope After The Storm
As I type, the effects of Hurricane Milton are yet to be determined as it continues to barrel towards the Florida coast. Anticipating more catastrophic damage, the impact will most likely feel exponential as areas of Florida, North Carolina and beyond have been devastated by the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. People are still missing, flood waters are still making neighborhoods unrecognizable, and a multitude of areas are still without power or functional gateways for assistance. The storm desolation appears simply indescribable.
Others traverse a different path of angst. Over the past week I’ve become aware of so many people in my concentric orbit who’ve been thrust into the unimaginable. Unexpected cancer diagnoses, the burden of medical treatment, dealing with loss or navigating a way forward amidst chronic hardship have become the uninvited chapters of their lives. For them, ordinary time is hijacked by crisis or struggle that mark time between before and after. Days once bookended by routine or humdrum are overtaken by the search for someplace to begin amidst wreckage.
My heart aches for those in the track of such crushing storms; both literally and figuratively. I can’t imagine their sentiments of feeling lost or hopeless. When in the moment of such intense pain, the worst thing to hear is any kind of platitude or short circuited bit of cliché expression that might feel insensitive or shallow. Born from experience, I offer a different proposition in how to find a road forward, one step at a time.
When I speak to high schoolers or other groups of people regarding my family’s tragic losses, I always refer to the morning after my brother died unexpectedly. That terrible morning defied sorrow, but my siblings and I were charged with how to navigate the hours of awfulness. In hindsight, it was random moments of good that offered a bridge in how to move forward. I remember how brilliant the blue sky was, giving illumination to the darkness of our souls. I remember the considerate and professional way the first responders lead us through the unimaginable. I remember the kind and gentle gaze of a McDonalds employee when he served us our much needed coffee. And, I remember how my family and I held on to each other, trusting in love to see us through. There were no quick fixes, nor was the road easy; however our ability to rest in the moments of ordinary holiness were propelling.
Resilience and grit tend to surprise us by showing up when we most need them. I can’t really say I exercise resilience or grit during humdrum days, but the onset of difficult days invites us to rise up in strength and spirit never anticipated. Those sorting through the damage of these devastating storms already have lessons of tenacity and fortitude they could impart on others; although I’m guessing they’d rather not have such wisdom to impart if it meant their lives would have been spared the struggle. The path forward, however, consists of many moments that are threaded together. The challenge is for shattered spirits to remain porous so that those moments of ordinary holiness can penetrate their despair. Then, they can be uplifted and a bit more trusting in a road forward laced with hope. At least that will continue to be my prayer for all who are struggling.