Storms (04/15/2026)

Monday evening the storms began in our area and my old parish church, St. Joseph’s in East Bristol, Wisconsin, was severely damaged. My daughter who lives a couple miles away and can see the church and the cemetery where we have our plots texted me with photos. I couldn’t believe the damage. I thought of all the people whose lives have been touched by that church and community. I thought of my grandson and his fiancé whose wedding was to be there in July. I understand the science of storms, but I struggle with their aftermath.

I was struggling, too, with the news of the death of a precious, loving and noble soul in our faith community that I and so many, many others had been praying for daily for months. She passed away Monday. They called me for help with the funeral luncheon for her family and friends. I struggled with this news, too, and my heart ached for her family and friends.

Then last evening, when the sirens started going off in my town last evening, the sadness was dislodged by fear. I don’t normally fear storms even though my first memory was of the tornado of May 1953 that did so much damage to Temple, Texas and nearby Waco. I found myself fearful for my children and grandchildren in the area. And I went to the porch, watched the sky, and prayed.

All of us and our lives are marked by the storms of life. Some of them have been weather events, others have been “life events.” But we all understand that into every life, storms will enter. Fear is normal. Questions swirl like leaves in the wind. Why is this happening? We may even ask, “Where are You, LORD?”

Then this morning, as I read the readings for the day, the first from the Acts where the apostles were freed from captivity by angels and the gospel from John 3 where we are reminded that the LORD, the Father Almighty, sent His only-begotten Son into the world, not to condemn us but to save us, to give us life, I surrendered my fears. I gave them to Christ, the light, and chose light over darkness. The sadness remains because it is part of love for others hurt, but the darkness that flows from fear is gone.

I don’t understand any more about weather and suffering than I did Sunday, but I am consoled knowing that my Savior, Jesus Christ, understands because He, too, lived and suffered as we do. I don’t understand so much, and the older I get, the more amazed I am at how much I don’t know. But what I do know is that the LORD is, the LORD loves, and the LORD is with me all the time if I am open to Him, His love, and His light.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.