The Storm

I couldn’t go to sleep tonight and wanted to write a story of something that just came to my mind.  I hope it doesn’t seem disorganized, but it does have a purpose and it does have a deeper meaning — but the meaning and purpose may not be exactly the same for everyone.

In all directions, all that could be seen is the darkness and blackness of the storm clouds overhead.  The wind was violent, tossing the small, covered boat back and forth.  The man on board felt an overwhelming sense of dread as the roar of the waves and the crashing of the thunder beat down on him.  The storms he had faced prior were small, perhaps even preparing him for this.  This was bigger – much bigger.  The man had heard of people overcoming storms like this before, but as the boat began to splinter, so did his heart and soul.

For hours, the horrific storm beat down.  His body became broken, his soul became weak.  The hours turned into days, as the storm tore apart the small boat.  He cried out to God day and night, but it seemed in vain.

He longed to see clearer, brighter days.  He wanted to hope again.  He sought the shelter of the everlasting Father.  Where was rest to be found?  It was a storm without relent.  As it bore on him day after day and night after night, he began to become weaker.

He cried out constantly for the storm to cease, but it pressed on.  Through the winter, through the spring, and to the summer where the seasons seemed to join, the soul began to see.  The shelter that had once been a mighty boat was now reduced to merely a boat with a sail.  The powerful storm was no more.  The prayers that once seemed in vain became clear.  The sheltered heart that had not known love now saw clearly.  What was broken once had been made pliable in order to be made new again.  The soul that once was hopeless, now found hope.  Where his only sail would take him, only God could know.  Without the storm, the shelter couldn’t have been destroyed.  And without the shelter being destroyed, the broken heart would never have been mended and restored.

The man in the mirror couldn’t understand what was occurring in his soul – all he could see were the waves crashing all around.  The purifying and refining fire that burned in his soul was only the beginning of what began many years ago with a whisper and a prayer.