Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: STORM (10/05/17)
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TITLE: Real Life Insurance | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
10/11/17 -
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Generations of folks who live in areas so often hit by the funnel-shaped destroyer always are shocked by the devastation and thankful to be alive. From my comfortable front-row seat far away, real frustration convinces me I can lecture the traumatized survivors on the television screen.
I try to clarify hindsight for the distraught young mother who clutches bewildered children while standing in the middle of the remains of her day.
“Honey, you are not Dorothy. It’s still Kansas (or whatever state is in distress at the time), and you live in a home that includes the word mobile! Wake up!”
The cat looks at me as if to ask why I’m addressing strangers who are talking in that squawky box and not focusing on supper.
I ask Kitty, “Well? Would you want your walls and roof to take off to parts unknown…and in parts?”
She curls up beside me as if sensing I need comfort. I continue to shake my head in disbelief at the apparent lack of long-term planning.
“Doesn’t anyone remember the Boy Scout motto?”
If I were a cat, I guess I’d be thinking, what’s that…and who cares?
The answer is: BE PREPARED.
The network people who wield microphones hound the frightened sufferers with pointless questions or pick through piles of splintered lives to hold up a doll or teacup. That certainly underscores the pathos that comes with seeing homes destroyed, and perhaps loved ones missing. Once in a while, stunned people have crawled out of built-in storm cellars, safe and sound but homeless and clueless.
To be fair, tornados can be just as hungry to gobble up stick and mortar dwellings. Nonetheless, a house disguised as a sitting-duck on wheels is usually the casualty. Like the ravenous wolf pounding at the doors of the three little pigs, even in fairy tale land it’s a lot harder to huff and puff and blow down a brick house.
In the documented pathway known as Tornado Alley, what if those spiffy lightweight singles or doublewides could be purchased only with proof of an underground shelter nearby (sometimes called a bunker)?
As I continue to pitch vague ideas toward the TV relating to the future safety of people I do not know, a dear little dog limps into the picture. The camera person recognizes a touching moment and zeroes in on the dirty, scared, furry fellow as the owners obviously are jubilant with relief. The oldest child hugs him while crying gut-wrenching tears. I sob along with him.
It’s easy to make this natural weather event analogous to storms in our lives and why we should be prepared and have our spiritual shields at the ready. In my family, there is undisputed evidence of how that full armor was instrumental in a supernatural weather battle.
In the 1960s, in a small town in west Tennessee, my amazing God-fearing/God-loving, praying grandmother did what she knew Jesus had done. She spoke to the storm.
The old house was shaking, and that loud train sound had already begun as the twister made right for her back door.
She yelled at the others in the house, “Get on the floor!”
Then, she did something beyond the imagination of most.
She stepped out on the porch as the swirling killer headed straight for all five-foot-three brave inches of her and the old home she was defending.
With not a blink of uncertainty, she pointed her finger right at the enormous approaching killer and shouted, “NO! In the Name of Jesus, I take authority over you, and you will NOT harm this place.”
That raging tornado suddenly changed its attack pattern. It seemed to stop on a dime, do an about face and take off for who-knows-where. One Weeping Willow tree by the porch was uprooted and carried away. Maybe that was proof to scoffers just how imminent the destruction had been.
As good scouts in the Army of God, if we insist on living in dangerous places known to be ambushed by winds of grand proportions (real or metaphorical), it would be prudent to build our homes on The Rock. Then, when the wolf is at the door, we know our shelter is waiting.
It makes good sense to be prepared for storms. And for the record, God loves it when His plan for our protection comes together.
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*Note: True account of my grandmother’s David and Goliath moment.
Psalm 91: 3-6; 9-12 (NLT)
For He will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with His feathers.
He will shelter you with His wings.
His faithful promises are your armor and protection.
If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home.
For He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go.
They will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.
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