Growing up in Missouri, I know how fast a funnel can drop out of the sky. I knew people who’d survived tornados and, even though we lived in a brick house, I always retreated to the basement when the weather turned violent.

Then, 20 years later, I moved to the land of hurricanes. A couple weeks ago, we hit peak season and, as I’m writing this, Helene is half a day away from making landfall.

All we can do is sit and watch the weather on the tube. We’re prepared, but we are powerless to stop a hurricane. Or a tornado. Or a flood.

Many people stand by the ocean and feel so small; so insignificant in the grand scheme of all creation. I feel that way in bad weather…and in Florida, we don’t even have basements where I can hide out.

At some point, in every storm scenario, there is a period of being holed up and battened down but nothing has started. No winds. No lightening. No crashing thunder. Those few moments of peace are what I try to emulate in overall life.

I have prepared, but I also have to live this gift of life I’ve been given. I can’t stay holed up in a basement because, well, that’s not living. I am powerless to the things I cannot change. When horrible things happen, we must find some form of acceptance to be able to move forward. And that takes guts. It takes a calm mind to move forward in fear and vulnerability.

I’m praying this calm over all of us as we weather the storms of life, literal and metaphorical.