When traveling in the wilderness, learn to seek the abundance of the moment. Ask God to open your eyes to all the blessings He has for you there. As you see each one, let them become a refreshing spring. Soak them into the dry pores of your soul, drink them into the parched areas of your spirit, praise Him for every one, and feel that solid ground at the center of His will.
-- Stormie Omartian

You are right smack in the middle of the storm. You’re wet; the rain is cold; and it’s been storming for days, months... years. The bleak clouds in the sky have been dark for so long, you don’t even remember what sunshine or happiness feels like. But while you dolefully sit in the rain waiting for the rainbow to signify the end of the storm, you’ve overlooked the strong winds blowing unwanted stuff from your atmosphere and how the heavy downfall is bringing life back to your otherwise dry outlook and routine. You haven’t noticed how the lightening has provided glimpses of what is good in your life, or how the thunder sounds like God’s voice cracking with intent and intensity through the storm. You’re just waiting for the storm to end.

In the storm, you’ve found yourself bruised beyond recognition, heartbroken, and, ultimately, unforgiving and indifferent, and you want nothing more than to immediately heal and get on with your life. But have you noticed that when you reflect on your wounds, you breathe deeper and become quieter – both opportunities for hearing the gentle, loving voice inside you that says you’re still ALL that? Have you observed how as you withdraw, you better nurture not only the tender parts that have been exposed and scarred, but your entire Self, focusing on every element to ensure its good working order? Have you realized that while you’re lovingly assuaging your Self, heartlessness and doubt are melting away because you’ve realized that loving your Self through pain’s storm opens you up to seeing others in a more compassionate and open-minded light? And you’re not even at the end of the storm; it’s still raining.

While in the storm, the squall lines are so high that you can see and feel nothing but the sting of the pain before you. But somehow, on any given day, you are able to form your lips to sing praises to God because you’re reminded of Paul and Silas, who, even after being beaten and thrown in jail, sang praises to God and all the chains were broken (Acts 16:25-6). You know that even when the very core of your Self is tried and tested and the battle seems to only get bigger and stronger, singing and praising God brings peace that overcomes you and surpasses the influence of the storm. So you celebrate even though the storm is raging, arduously continuing the journey through it.

Oh yeah, after the storm, it’ll be easy to rejoice and reflect on the lessons learned. You’ll see the greenery, freshness, and new life after the storm. But it’s during the storm where fragments of joy and favor are waiting to be remembered, discovered, and meshed together for wholeness. It’s during the storm where you can embrace what’s around you and use it as a passageway to get you through. Notice everything; name it and keep it before you as you go through.

Sadiqqa © 2007