Lessons From a Storm

You may have heard about the tornadoes that touched down in Northeast, Ohio last week. The National Weather Report indicated that four E1 Tornadoes swirled through towns, uprooting trees, shaving off roofs and disabling power to over 300,000 residences in their path. We were one of those households. Sister Helen and Lily, our dog, and I sequestered in our basement bathroom listening to doors slam and objects fly in the floors above us. Sister Anita was not home at the time. Trees and large branches littered our yard like fallen sentinels to the storm’s wrath. Our driveway, literally a one-way road, dumped two trees across it tangled with electric wires. So here we were: no power, no access in or out of the property like an ocean island sans palm trees and coconuts and an inviting beach! We could, however, run to the garage where I had fortunately not lowered the electrically operated door and get to a car that would charge our phones.

What have I learned through this storm? How did it challenge my spirituality?

I could not read because the house was dark inside. Couldn’t catch up on laundry, couldn’t cook, couldn’t even listen to the radio until Sr. Helen found her battery-operated one. Couldn’t  go outside because parts of trees were still falling. I was beginning to worry that I was getting too anxious about something of which I had no control: the storm’s demise and the  subsequent clean up and repair. Our city, by the way, was also blocked off for almost two days. 

What do you do when you are in a vacuum of helplessness thinking of all you need to be doing for three long days and nights? Simple. You learn dependence on Providence. I made myself sit down and pray. It’s odd but times like this make you appreciate how fortunate you are. My prayer turned into gratitude thanking for our lives and our house. But, still, I could feel myself getting impatient with responders such as the electric company with their recorded phone responses, “We’re sorry but due to the large numbers of callers, it will be some time before…” I was getting impatient with the tree cutting service who was slow to respond. “Don’t they get it?” I kept thinking, if we needed an ambulance, it would not be able to get to us! Peanut butter sandwiches and packaged tuna became our fare until I recalled that Robert F. Kennedy, the independent candidate for the presidency, thought he might have gotten the worm in his brain from eating too much tuna!! Sister Anita thought we could light a pilot in our electric stove and make a hot meal. We did so. That was sheer joy! The only positive part of the ordeal was that we had no choice but to go to bed early!

But it gnawed at me as to why I was so impatient. I had to take stock. I needed to become an entirely different person on this island. Not unlike the contestants on the popular reality shows like “Survivor,” or “Naked and Afraid.” We had our clothes and some non-perishable food as opposed to insects and wild animals. We had cold water. But what did I not have that made this so challenging?

I had no patience without my laptop for writing. I had no patience without my books to read. I had deadlines to make. My routine was decimated. But really, what are they worth in the larger context of things? Three days later when our temporary electricity came on, I consulted a dictionary for the word, ‘patience.’ It defined patience as the “capacity to tolerate delay, trouble, suffering without getting upset or angry.” ‘Impatience’ means “restlessness, frustration, nervous, edginess.” Hmmm. So, I decided to ask three friends who seem to know  me well if I was ‘impatient’ or ‘patient’ as a person. I had already asked another person months ago for a different reason. The first person answered the question quickly, too quickly I thought: “Yes,” she said, “You are impatient.” The second person said the same, “Yes. You are impatient!” The third had answered at least creatively: “You? Impatient? You’re like a racehorse attached to a milk wagon!” The fourth gave me wiggle room: “You are sometimes impatient because you live life with gusto, but you are very patient with projects you invest yourself in.” Yes, I eat too fast, want things done yesterday instead of today, can’t handle TV remotes that fail, abhor waiting too long at the doctor’s office or in the check out line, well, you get the picture. 

Reflection

The storm reaffirmed my suspicion that I had work to do spiritually when it comes to patience. I’ve been reflecting on Jesus’s lovely story about seeking the kingdom of God (Matthew 6:25-31). This is a touching analogy of lilies carefree and bobbing in the field as they grow, of sparrows that do not sow or reap or store in barns but trust their Maker to feed them. “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough troubles of its own.” (34) I still have to work on slowing down my meter, chipping away on the obsidian obstacle that is impatience.

At this writing, we still have temporary electricity. I marvel at the guys who worked to get us back in shape; at one time there were seven trucks working on our access and that of a nearby neighbor’s. The workers were from Connecticut; a total of seven states sent workers to Ohio. My heart is overwhelmed with appreciation.

Join me in praying to be more patient in respect for God’s care for us. Read thoughtfully Luke 12:27-31 and Matthew 6:25-31. Let the presence of God tell you when you need to be patient with His timeline, not your own.

Enjoy the waning days of summer my friends. May all of you and my Anonymous Angels take in this lingering beauty. My prayers are with you.