Windy days

Todd grew up in the Windy City and now we live in what should be called Windiest City Ever.  Which is fine.  You just kind of get used to it.  But last Saturday made the paper, a constant barrage of wind, nearly blackout conditions on some roads from the field dust, parts of the highway were closed, collisions, huge gusts, power outages. Including our home.

Which is also fine.  But when it happens you kind of make a quick assessment of how that will affect the rest of the day and weekend.   I navigated my way along darkened back roads from a baby shower to see my husband playing Monopoly with our 9 and 11 year-olds.  I felt out of sorts, in between obligations and needing to leave again soon, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the power would be back on before dinner, and in my mind I played out the immediate future.  And then I felt myself relax.  We had plenty of food that we could access.  We could always have cereal.  Our grill would come in handy.  Water is a problem for us when we’re without electricity because we’re on a cistern, but we have bottled water. We’ve certainly gone without before, we know how to camp, we’ve got this.

I thought back to wind storms we’d endured in the past.  One that always stands out is the one that blew our trampoline over our neighbors fences, breaking them and crippling our brand-new tramp.  The only one we’ve ever bought.  We even spent $100 trying to get the legs repaired at a shop downtown.  What a waste of money.  It was kind of surreal watching it tumble across the yards; we even had it tethered down, but the top half just blew off.  We chased it but weren’t quick enough.  Sometimes we’ll lose a shingle or two, we’ll sustain some damage.  Unexpected gusts, stronger than anticipated.  This last storm blew our grill into our window well.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been blown into the window well.  I feel the weight of a power outage in my heart on occasion, causing me look around at the resources at my disposal.  Sometimes we’re in the middle of a windy day or just a blustery period of life, but once in awhile the gusts come out of the west with hardly a whisper to announce their arrival and I’m blind-sided.  I can’t help but feel a little apprehensive.  This is stronger than the ones we’re used to, will our preparations still hold?

I think we all held onto the notion in our younger days that our preparations—the formula—would protect us.  That if we did our part, the clouds would somehow part around us.  We would have a silver umbrella to shelter us, we would be immune to the passing storms that others were unfortunate enough to get caught up in.  But I think we’ve all lived long enough to know that’s not what our preparations have been about at all.  The formulas we relied on in algebra work for us in mathematical situations, but life is more like the piece of scratch paper we used than a bubble sheet all neatly shaded in.  Sometimes it feels like the formulas weren’t meant to hold up in real life.

Just when I think I’ve reached a part in my education when I can keep my answer sheet neat and tidy, the winds flare up and I’m back to my scratch paper life.  But what I’ve learned is that the formulas always work.  Not that they help avoid the windstorms of life, but that they are tools that help us work out the problems on our life’s homework.

I’d of course hoped that if we dutifully did our part to have Family Home Evening and attend church, to pray and read as a family and on our own, that if we played and talked and spent hours and hours together, as well as all the other things we’ve embraced since we were young and started our family, we would avoid the storms of life.  I’d hoped that by using the formula I’d end up with a nice even answer with no remainders.  And yet, I was realistic enough to know at the same time that it’s just not the way life’s tests go.  And so while I hoped, I at the very same time knew.  I think we’re all kind of like that.  Of course we hope.  We have faith that the deposits we make will eventually make a difference, that they will amount to something, that they will provide security.  Why else would we do any of this?

What I have found is that while all these deposits don’t help us avoid the storms of life, they are perfectly accounted for and available for me at a moment’s notice.  They are most definitely my security.  While attending the temple for years hasn’t prevented gusts from billowing around our home, it has tethered and grounded me, providing an anchor of stability in a troubling world and a place of refuge to think clearly and to receive comfort and answers.  While reading scriptures as a family doesn’t guarantee that we won’t have the same struggles as the people we read about, I know it brings the Spirit into our home and into our lives.  I know to go back to them for words of counsel, to hear what God has for me and to see how others handled similar problems.  They strengthen and comfort me, buoying me up to handle what’s out there.  I know going to church doesn’t assure me that every one of my children will always want to join me, that’s not necessarily how it works.  But what does work is the support and peace and strength I find there.  I know praying for our kids doesn’t mean they travel with an impermeable force-shield, but it’s an infalable source of power that comforts and guides us all as I send them out in all sorts of inclement weather.  And just as we look to our Savior to show us the way in our everyday life, He is there even in blackout conditions.  He not only takes our hand when we reach out for Him, He gives us courage to walk in the dark with Him.  He shares His strength, His love, His matchless power with us.  Because of the relationship we developed on many calm and cloudless days, we are familiar and at ease with Him when the darkening clouds threaten.  It’s a given.

So just as I looked around and took stock of what resources we had to help us through our power outage last Saturday, I think we do the same thing as the winds of life have picked up.  I know that just as we’ve squirreled away food and water, we’ve also stored up words of comfort and counsel, we’ve created and lived traditions and habits, and we’ve built strong relationships with each other and our God that will provide strength and nourishment no matter how long or strong the storms of life rage.  The formula works—not that it prevents the wind storms of life from reaching our homes—but it is the very framework we count on as we make our way through them.