The Tempest

A brewing storm on I-40

"When the tempest passes, the wicked is no more,
but the righteous is established forever."

Proverbs 10:25

                              The Tempest

It was calm as I overlooked the waters of the bay, 

Not unlike many days I had seen before.

And with my back to the scurrying crowd behind me, 

I could imagine blissful stillness, nothing more.

 The cry of the gulls was sweet to my ears, 

A familiar sound that I often fondly heard.

In their shrill cry I almost sensed a warning, 

But to maintain my reverie, I dismissed it as absurd.

As I gazed into the distance, I spied a small cloud.

A subtle wind began to rise.

Something within me nagged me to observe it; 

instead I turned my head and closed my eyes.

Life here is so easy, so carefree, I mused. 

This island is blessed with pure serenity.

No storm has overtaken it in all these years;

to even contemplate it seems vile obscenity.

As I stood upon the rocks I so often carelessly climbed, 

I noticed a wave slap hard at the breaker.

The salt spray that hit me should have alarmed me;

I decided to think on it later.

But before my heart would dare conceive it,

the storm had unleashed all its grave fury.

I was guilty of ignoring the telltale signs. 

The biting wind was my judge, the raucous thunder my jury. 

It slapped at my face and tore at my clothes 

and promised to blind me with fear.

Though the torrents fell round me and the darkness screamed evil, 

my heart sensed a Presence was near.

As I fell to my knees, pelted by the winds and rain, 

it seemed that the blackness would enfold me.

I cried out to the Creator of nature’s wrath 

and begged Him in mercy to hold me.

For hours the fair island that had been my secure shelter

was battered and beaten and torn.

I made my way to the top and clung firmly to the Rock 

and waited out the cold, blinding storm.

The storm did subside, but others followed.

Alas, my fair island was not immune.

But in the midst of the chaos I learned a wise lesson. 

My insensitive heart was fine-tuned.

For the One who causes the gales to blow

and the fierce rains to pellet the earth

Is the same Lord who calms the raging seas

and restores the land with new birth.

So amidst the harsh storms of life I have found 

 He allows them as part of His plan.

But the Rock that I cling to is eternally secure; 

I’m held firm by His strong loving hand.

I don’t look for the storms, but as I cling to the top 

of the Rock, I can almost see

A glimpse of eternity; how very much sweeter 

that haven called heaven will be!

 Gloria Godbee

As we ride the storms with the Rock of our salvation,

Gloria