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Here in the south we have these incredible rainstorms that bring sheets of rain, booming thunder and lightning that sometimes feels blinding. They are magnificent in their power and ability to, even on the sunniest summer day, blot out the light and make the world seem darker and more volatile. The craziest thing about these storms is that, especially on the sunniest summer days, they pop up seemingly out of nowhere and can be incredibly localized. Two people in the same town could call each other and be experiencing astonishingly different weather within just a mile or two of one another. I once stood on the sidewalk on one side of the street, dry as a bone, and watched as the opposite side of the road was drenched in seconds. 

I think when we live our lives in close proximity with others we expect them to be seeing and feeling the same external circumstances that we are. If I look up and see storm clouds rolling in, it is surprising to me when Tait seems to only have rainbows and sunshine on his horizon. If I’m being honest, it makes me feel a little crazy, a bit concerned that my perception is wrong. What if there are no clouds? What if the only storm is coming from inside my soul and not actually a front on the way? My husband does a beautiful job of encouraging me during those moments. He reminds me that my feelings are valid and if I smell rain, there is a reason. 

You see, I’m a bit of a retired storm chaser. I once lived my life racing after toxic relationships, desperate to stay involved in them. Hail, twisters, debris…they were all a part of my life. I didn’t know any different, or at least that was my excuse. I think a part of me thought that the storm would find me anyway, at least if I hunted it down I had some control, knew where it was coming from, pretended that there was a clear way out even when every path was blocked.  Sometimes I stirred up the wind myself, wanting nothing more than to destroy the landscape of my life, wipe it clean and leave nothing but dirt to start over with. Some people think I did that. 

The truth is, the storm got too big. I don’t remember whether it came in from the west like one of those summer showers or if I was the cyclone at the center, but either way it morphed into something that scared me more than being alone or being unloved ever did and with no cellar to be found, all I could do was run. 

When we are rescued from a situation, there is so much relief and joy in that. We are grateful and at times, that overrides any other emotion that came before it. But in an ordinary moment, in the middle of a sunny day, the wind can change and even that slight breeze across our cheek reminds us of the before, not the act of rescue, but the what that we were rescued from. So I spot storm clouds more often these days. Some never make it where I am, the thunder rolling far enough in the distance, the ground around me still clear of raindrops.  But I watch them like a hawk, testing the direction of the wind, watching as those patches of gray drift across the sky. Always ready.