The Thunderbird has been active this year. Mostly, that’s a good thing, unless he gets excited and starts throwing rocks. Some of our areas have been hard hit with hail, and crops were decimated. I hope those folks had crop insurance, but also know it’s a gamble whether to include that expense into your budget or just take a chance. The whole thing makes me glad not to be a farmer, and that someone is willing to bear the burden of feeding us.
On a road trip across the state last week, I spent a lot of time trying to outguess the Thunderbird, stopping several times along highway 20 to let the storms get ahead of me, after listening to reports of high wind and hail ahead. At one place where I pulled off on a side road, the rain was pouring down about a hundred yards ahead but I was dry. There was literally a line on the highway where rain started. By the time I reached Valentine, the storm had passed leaving puddles everywhere. I spent the night at my son’s home and there were more fireworks later on. Next day, my son and I continued on in rain all the way to our destination and drove with wipers going most of the way back. Leaving Valentine in bright sun, I began watching a cloud off to the northwest and considered stopping in Rushville to wait that one out, but decided I could get to the backside before it crossed highway 20. Wrong choice. Halfway to Hay Springs, all traffic pulled off and endured a toad drowner, with lots of wind and hail. That particular route apparently is not a good choice for summer trips, but at least no appointment at the body shop was required, so all was well.
How many times have you heard the latest popular saying, “It’s all good?” Maybe you’ve said it yourself. But what about the times when it isn’t good, and never will be again? Maybe there was a debilitating accident, a death, a hail storm, flood, or tornado that destroyed many dreams and hopes. Yes, good can come from tragedy; neighbors and friends step up to help and offer comfort, and from that lives may be changed in good ways, but saying it’s all good denies us a chance to face reality and heal.
Recently, I came across an article that talked about how to help children process such events. You don’t say it’s all good when Grandpa dies, or when a family splits up, because it’s not. Healing will happen, but life has been irrevocably changed and everyone needs help to move on. A scraped knee can be addressed with “There now, you’ll be fine,” and treated with a hug and a band aid, but when your dog dies, that won’t do. Early in my first marriage, I had a miscarriage and was told not to cry because when it was too tough for others, it was just right for my new family. Thirty years later, I didn’t even cry at that husband’s funeral, and tears are still rare for me. I went on to raise a fine family and have had many wonderful years, but denying the need to grieve caused a lifelong scar.
Don’t sugarcoat the bad stuff just to shut someone up. Help them to have faith that all will be well, even when it isn’t, at the moment. Try to live by this quote from Michael Gearson.
“Faith is staking your life on the rumor of grace.”
Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.