Indiana experienced severe thunderstorms, flash floods and even some tornadoes this past week. While my family has remained safe, and our home unscathed, we have known others in power outages, and have seen videos from neighboring towns with storms knocking down coffee shops and flipping homes. They have experienced the harshness of what nature can bring.
The sky has displayed both the frightening power and the soothing gentleness of its Creator. The LORD is both mighty and tender. He is angry storm clouds, moaning winds. He is a barely detectable sweep of a butterfly’s wing, a placating touch lightly lain on a shoulder. He is all of our talents manifest at the peak of their practice. He is the mercy when we fail in our constant fragility. He is love, and all in between.
This past weekend I went with some girlfriends to watch the Meryl Strep biopic Florence Foster Jenkins, the peculiarly popular opera singing with the infamously off key voice. As she lay in her bed dying tears welling from her eyes, tears of disappointment, she finds a moment of triumph with a somewhat self-deprecating smile. She tells her husband,
Some may say that I couldn’t sing, but no one can say that I didn’t sing.
At the end of the day, as I lay my head on my pillow with eyes either welling with tears, or feeling a sense of triumph, I can say equally well,
Some may say I didn’t parent well, but no one can say I didn’t parent.
And the mighty hand of the Creator will bring power and gentleness to rest in their appropriate places. There will be storms of mercy that fall, filling in the spots where I was off key.