Tornado reminds her where her treasure lies
The writer attends the Church of God Sabbatarian.
By Scarlett Stough
LONEDELL, Mo.--Just a few days ago I knelt in a ditch away from my mobile home listening to a constant roar in the distance. The wind was picking up speed, and large hail bounced off my yellow vinyl poncho. Water was collecting underneath me, and I was wet and cold.
I prayed for my neighbors that their homes and lives would be spared, that God would send the tornado along a path that would do no harm.
Lightning flashed close to me, jarring me into realizing that for this point in time I had been stripped of everything except the clothes on my back. I didn't know if God would require my life of me that day or not. I asked Him to look after my family and motivate someone to pray for them if I wasn't going to be allowed to remain to care for them.
I experienced God as my shelter, knowing that I was completely vulnerable to the elements: the wind and hail, the wet, cold ground and the lightning.
He could choose to preserve my life or allow it to end. He could save my life but remove all of my possessions, leaving me without the material comforts that my family and I enjoy.
During this uncomfortable, tense hour that I spent praying and meditating in that ditch, I realized-with an intensity of reality that I had never experienced-that God is my security. Trust and hope and love were my companions. Even if I lost everything else, including my life, they endure for eternity.
As things turned out, I never saw the tornado, but I heard the wind. I didn't see or hear God, but I felt His presence. I am grateful to Him that the only damage done in our area was trees stripped along the highway.
I later appreciated being able to take a warm bath and put on clean, dry clothes. I am glad to be alive and rejoice that my family is safe. I'm also grateful for the reminder of where my treasure lies.
© The Journal: News of the Churches of God