Hurricane Milton is bearing down on the Gulf Coast of Florida. Milton has been described as a Monster—its size, power, strength, speed…. No one knows for sure where or when it will make landfall–sometime late Wednesday night, somewhere between Tampa and Naples. I live in Sarasota, Florida, smack dab between those two cities. Watching the news makes me pay attention to the seriousness of the situation, but it also increases my anxiety and fear.
August, September, and now October in Florida have showcased hurricanes with serious consequences.Two weeks ago Hurricane Helene brought surges to the barrier Island of Siesta Key, about 15 minutes from my house. Many families lost the entire contents of their first floors including cars to the 5-foot surge waters. Meteorologists predict 10-15 foot surges with Milton. I live two miles inland of the Gulf. I’m in a non-evacuation zone. But what does that really mean with the threat of 165 mph winds? It’s so easy to obsess about worse case possibilities.
Am I afraid? Yes. But I’m also putting one foot in front of the other to be prepared and to live in the meantime. Tuesday morning I played Pickleball and then donated blood. We stocked our house with water and canned goods and books and friends. Our friends who lost their cars and everything on their first floor are staying with us. Friends in Sarasota are checking on each other. Friends from far away are writing to say they are thinking about us and praying for us. I do not feel alone. I do not feel abandoned. Last night at the dinner table, we sang a chant called For the Beauty of the Earth and then sang the Doxology. In the midst of the fear, there is gratitude, hope, and song.
Doodling my prayers is one way I keep fear in its place. I am not on the Sea of Galilee in a storm, but I am on the shore of an angry gulf waiting for powerful winds and tons of water. Drawing my prayer and listening for words helps me to keep my eyes on Jesus, to know that God is in the midst of the storm with us.
Words on the drawing are from Scripture, hymns, and blessings that came to me.
It seems that hurricanes bring me to my knees! In September 2017, Irma was a powerful hurricane. I was not living near Irma but many friends and family members were.
This is such a valuable, truth-filled reminder. I’m inspired, and this reminds me that when I feel helpless against a storm of any kind, I can draw and doodle and recall the truthful, healing words of the Lord.
Thanks for your words of encouragement, too, Cindi.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and prayers. They help me to pray for my own hurricane coast families!
Thanks, Debby. Everyone seems to know someone affected by this. So much waiting, so much unknown…into your hands, O God.
Sybil-
You are amazing! My brother-in-law is down in the Orlando area to care for his father. He wasn’t planning on this. He has prepared and is ready.
We are somewhat prepared and somewhat ready but who knows!
Dear Sybil and family and friends as you shelter together,
I will be holding in prayer you and all those in the path of this hurricane guided by your beautiful prayers in color.
Cindy Overmyer shared this post with me. She introduced me many years ago to this way of praying and I participated in a zoom workshop you lead several years ago.
Blessings and peace,
Wendy Manley
I remember, Wendy. Thank you for prayers. It has just grown dark and quite windy.
praying for your safety this very evening- Lord have mercy!!!
One of my favorite Christian symbols is the the Anchor Cross. It reminds me that in the midst of the storms of life Christ is the one who is my anchor.
May the love of Christ be the anchor for those who are facing the aftermath of the hurricanes that have devestated Florida and the Southeastern states.
Thank you for this, Michelle. I think I’ll try adding that to my cross repertoire!