How to Surf in a Hurricane

Hurricane (Hur-ih-keyn) n:  a violent, tropical, cyclonic storm of the Western North Atlantic, having wind speeds of or in excess of 72 miles per hour; a storm of the most intense severity. 

"A storm of the most intense severity."
I'm in a hurricane right now. 

I am rain-drenched and wind-blasted and battle-weary, and my world has been flattened and feels a little bit like this:


Things happen that force you out of your comfort zone.  I had typed the words in a message to a friend.  But when life gives you a hurricane, you go surfing.

Things are happening that I can't control, and there are choices to be made that will hurt no matter what I choose, and there are wounds too big for me to heal, and I am tempted to despair. The control-freak in me is panicking and worry has been my companion far too often these past few weeks. I've spent nights with little sleep and skipped meals because who can eat when they feel like this, who can stay afloat when the ocean is eating them alive? 

Jesus slept soundly through the storm. Jesus ate the meal knowing it would be only a few hours before his friend betrayed him and he would be questioned and tortured and killed. Jesus walked on water too stormy for a boat to cross with ease.  Jesus didn't worry. Jesus trusted.

As Ann Voskamp of 1000 Gifts fame says, I have soul amnesia.  I get slammed by a wave and forget that my God is the One who soothed the sea to sleep with a sentence, fed thousands with a prayer, and lived among us as the Word.  I become disoriented and lose my bearings and everything spins out of control.  I forget that I can trust and instead I panic.  When the "Peace, be still" finally comes through the whirling rain, it is said to me instead of the storm.

In the movie Soul Surfer, there is a scene where shark-attack-survivor Bethany is talking with her father because she wants to surf competitively, even though she lost her arm.  Her father tells her that it won't be easy, and, with an attitude I love, she replies, "I don't need easy.  I just need possible." 

With God, all things are possible.  God knows the plans he has for me and everyone else - plans to prosper and not to harm, plans to give a hope and a future.  God is faithful and forgiving and unchanging and compassionate and loving and just and comforting and relentless and powerful and good.  All he asks is that I trust.  Trust, instead of worry and forget and panic and fear.

Just trust.

That's how to surf in a hurricane.

Me, the Monk...Or, God in Real Life

If I was a guy and Catholic, I would totally be a monk.  I realize that this is not a very normal wish for a generally Protestant teenage girl, but it's true.  Okay, maybe I do like jeans better than itchy woolen habits, and I am a pretty big fan of tasty food, and I do enjoy not being confined to a monastery for my entire life, but sometimes, when life gets stressful, I envy the monastic lifestyle.  Spending the rest of my life meditating, singing, and talking to Jesus and my fellow monks sounds pretty appealing after a long, hard week of the insanity I call my life. 

But, obviously, monkhood is not an option.  In addition to the reasons mentioned before, the fact is that God has things for me to learn where I am.  And where I am right now is often mundane, tiring, and stressful, not to mention distracting. 

But God doesn't just meet me when I'm at rest, or when my mind is completely clear, or when I'm doing something great and "spiritual."  He wants to invade every moment of my life and transform the ordinary into divinity.  God isn't someone who waits at the top of tall mountains for only those with enough time or enough energy or enough whatever to struggle to meet Him; He meets us where we are at and teaches us to meditate in the madness of the mundane.