the coming storm

Any moment now, our lights will flicker one final time and darkness will rush to fill the corners of this house. It's not a matter of "if" tonight, but "when." The forecasters are calling the coming squall "The Storm of Storms." They're likening it to the Inaugural Day storm of 1993, when trees crashed through roofs and wind-whipped objects shattered windows, and six people lost their lives.

I can hear the edges of the storm as it reaches and fills Puget Sound. The air rushing under my front door sounds ghostly and frightful. The trees outside my window have begun a frenzied dance. I'm not distressed by the noises or the flickering lights. I will admit that I raised my eyebrows a bit when I heard the prediction of hurricane-force winds, and raised them a bit highter when I learned today that anyone with large trees to the south of their bedrooms should not plan to sleep in those bedrooms tonight, and that people with two-story houses should vacate the second floor once the storm hits. All three of our bedrooms face south ... and a grove of massive evergreens tower to the south of our home ... and I'm currently upstairs in my second-story office, typing quickly while the noises outside my window rise in intensity.

The lights are dimming in earnest now. It's just a matter of time. But we're prepared. There's enough food in this place that if it takes Dave a week to cut a path out (and we've had to cut a path out many, many times), we'll survive. We've plenty of fire wood. I've filled a half dozen water containers, finished the dishes and all the laundry, and made a rum cake to boot. A stack of Christmas knitting waits for me in a basket near the couch, a bulging file of paperwork awaits my editing. The double deck of cards are on the kitchen table, and I can see in Tera's eyes that she'll drop whatever she's doing the second I say, "Want to play a quick game?" That quick game, history tells me, will turn into an hour or three of Spite and Malice, Nertz, and Cribbage.

It's all over now but the waiting. We've been warned, and we responded. Somewhere in the midst of that preparation today, I thought about another coming storm, and the warnings I've read in Matthew 24 and Mark 13. And I wonder if I'm doing enough to prepare for that storm--the real storm, the true Storm of Storms.

Lord, make me ready. Whatever it takes--make me ready. Sweep through my heart and have Your way. Take whatever You will ... and then fill my emptiness with Your Spirit. Prepare me, Lord, that I might stand.