Storm Chasers #85

 

My husband and I went on an impromptu road trip recently to another part of our state. 

 

It included rolling up and down mountain roads while watching clouds change from being high in the blue sky to then being deep gray colors with barely a bit of sun peeking through above them. 

 

As if we had become storm chasers in a few short hours. Not that we had time to go to school to conduct meteorological research and yet we were on the lookout for what could come. 

 

I took moments to watch the sky as we listened to music and talked about life. 

 

Do you know that the sky can hold secrets if you have time to look up? It’s what we found out on this jaunt. 

 

We found that the billowing clouds coming across the blue sky started out as friendly, and even held shapes such as a turtle, a large whale that told tales, and then a swimming ghost. 

 

Perhaps you’ve seen shapes in the clouds in your realm, as well. 

 

I can do this for hours on a hot summer day and have plans to do it again in the coming months.

 

It is lovely to watch the clouds until you notice that the gray clouds have come and then it’s time to be a storm chaser. 

 

On this trip, I would scan the horizon by the side of my husband as he drove with eagle eyes. 

 

We had done this before and not only as ones who were watching for rain and snow. 

Watching for the next storm.

Watching for the next storm is what we have done together for a long time. 

 

It has looked like this in our life. Billowing white clouds have been the small moments of life that come when things have gone along almost perfectly. The rhythm in the day is set with routine and flow, even if we have not expected this to be part of the day. Where did the bright blue sky go? 

 

The deep gray can overtake even that last bit of sun and the storms are here. 

It’s those big deep gray clouds that have suddenly appeared that have caused us to grip the steering wheel and hold on tightly. 

 

One time, I was on my way to pick up Brandon from the airport many years ago and I became a storm chaser, yet again. This time our son was with me, and he was fascinated with the storm rolling in around us.

 

I was not as thrilled yet needed to stay calm as a cucumber to keep the trip easy going. 

 

My hands were gripping the wheel and my knuckles were white with pressure. 

 

The center white strip of the road could be seen for about 10 feet in front of me as fog had also become part of the storm. 

The chase was on.

The chase was on as we could neither stop nor go faster. 

 

What to do! 

 

I kept going with music rolling over us. 

 

Here is what I found that day. The deep gray clouds did indeed make me a storm chaser and my heart was pounding. 

 

The complete look of calm on our son’s face that day held my utter terror at bay as he had trust that we would get through the storm and arrive to pick up Brandon. 

 

I did both of those things because I had to. 

 

There was a second piece I realized as we came out of the fog and storm. 

 

Following the center white strip of the road while staying with the rhythm of our life had indeed kept me going. 

That, along with believing in the trust of our son, made it possible. 

 

There is one more thing that I found that day. 

 

It makes me pause as I have kept it near me since then. 

The collateral beauty that our son taught that day was deep and personally felt. 

He kept his eye on me.

He kept his eye on me the entire time we were in that storm. 

I was his measuring stick, and he was mine.  Together we came through that storm and found Brandon at the other end. 

 

The storm was gone on our return trip home. 

 

My friends, this was the same on the recent trip up and down mountains.

The bright blue sky came back. 

 

The beauty was there still and the storm that had come suddenly was gone. We had come through again. 

 

The storms keep peeking over white billowing clouds even now. 

 

They have made me grip a steering wheel until my knuckles are white. It is then the trust I have in the rhythm of life flows and somehow, I keep watching that center line. 

 

Will another storm roll in?

Undoubtedly. 

 

Will I have someone who is there to hold my terror at bay? 

Today it is yes, with his hand in mine. My land, I truly hope and pray that it is always so. 

 

If not, I will look for the collateral beauty. I will look up and remember our son who was there on that trip and through the storms of life. His trust was grand and taught me how to hold on tight while trusting.

 

Let’s roll through these mountains and storms together, my friends.