Praise In The Storm

Rain, heavy, pelting. The tempest raged on as a lonely figure dressed in black walked through the streets keeping his dark inner thoughts all to himself. He passed several people, all of them fleeing to the sanctity of their homes as the rain turned to hail, and the thunder rolled overhead. He grasped the lapel of his long overcoat and pulled it closer to shut out the elements that forced their way into his clothes that weighed so heavily upon him as they filled with water and ice.

Though his walk was awkward, it was not the weight of the water that made him stumble. The weight in his heart was greater than any physical load that could possibly be placed upon him at this point. The loss of someone he had loved, and the gain of a new enemy; an enemy that he had thought a friend all his life.

He was betrayed, and the pain that coursed through him poisoned his soul and his body until he found himself crying in agony from the depths of a filthy alleyway behind the church. Bitter tears of hate and loss flowed down his face, and he wondered how pathetic he must look sitting there in the rain weeping like a woman.

But as the thunder rolled, he heard a whisper in the wind.

“I am there for you…” He stopped his moaning, though the salty streams still flowed down his cheeks from bloated, bloodshot eyes. He sprang to his feet and surveyed the alleyway in a frantic manner.

“Who’s there?” He yelled, desperate for an answer.

He peered down the long walls that surrounded him and spoke again, smashing a trash can with his fist in anger. The garbage fell to the ground, glass shattering and disgusting juices from God knows what leaking into the alley to mix with water polluted with beer, sweat, and soot. He gritted his teeth, his anger rising. He kicked another can and watched it roll across the ground before coming to a slow halt a few feet in front of him.

He fell to his knees and screamed, a loud and low roar, a cry of absolute pain and suffering. He burst again, letting his emotions take their course in his body. He spasmed with hate and passion, screaming again. He tightened his face and the tears fell like the rain overhead in large, heavy, pelting drops. The thunder crashed and lightning streaked the sky with madness as the man who bore such agony stared at his dirt-covered face in a pool of foul water. He let his pain fall into it and ripple outward, distorting his face.

He calmed himself eventually and got to his feet again, however uneasy he seemed to be. His nose became clogged and dripped with mucus mixed with teardrops. His throat ached and burned. He wished he could scream again, but his body would not allow what his soul so badly wanted. He gasped for air and his chest heaved as the passion inside him cleared. The storm overhead continued to rage as the man turned his gaze to the sky.

“Why? Why have you forsaken me? I did everything, Lord…everything you wanted…why then must I suffer like this? Why was my love taken from me by this man who I know is unworthy of her? It is the devil’s work for sure! No pain this great could be by You, Father…” He put his forehead against the wall and caught his breath. He placed his palms upon the wall in a strange sort of embrace. He stopped suddenly and turned, looking again skyward. He raised his weakened arms and fell from his shaking legs to his knees.

“I’ll praise you in this storm…and I lift my hands. You are who You are…no matter where I am. And every tear I’ve cried you’ve held in your hand, Lord. Please…please let me praise you in this storm.” The rain continued to fall and as the arms of the man opened, so too did the doors of the church, the very church he intended to find. The pastor stepped out and smiled down at him and lifted the umbrella in his hand to shelter the man from the rain as he was ushered inside. The pastor put his arm around the man and as the doors closed, these words echoed on the wind,

“Welcome home, Mr. McCay…”

-Inspired by “Praise You in This Storm” by Casting Crowns