Good morning, Ladies. I'm looking out my office window at the aftermath of last night's wind-whipping storm. A few branches that were ready to be pruned anyway now litter the ground. Every leaf and grass blade and weed looks three shades greener than it did yesterday. Small puddles have formed under the feeders for the birds to bathe in. So peaceful -- something I couldn't have imagined last night when thunder rattled the house and water crept into the basement and King Arthur Kitty was scratching at the front door yowling, "For the love of the the LAND, could you let a cat IN?"

With both phone lines out and TV reception iffy and the Internet shut down and just two nervous pups and a disgruntled feline here with me, if someone had said, "This too shall pass," I would probably have pinched his or her head off. What about NOW? This minute? When lightning forks all around the power lines and the lamps blink and I have no way to reach out and say, "It's scary here!" -- "this too shall pass" isn't very helpful.

Okay, so I know thunderstorms end and the Internet comes back on and the cell service is restored every single time we have a summer thunderstorm. But what about the times when I -- and you -- are  deep into a storm that whirls above and around and below and shows no sign of stopping? Does the idea of it eventually passing help the moment?

These are some things I know about that:

    * When you're depressed, it's almost impossible to imagine that you'll ever feel any better than you do right now.  Depression is a disease of perspective, making it almost impossible to see a way out.

    * Grief is very much like that too. A close friend of mine who is mourning the loss of her husband says that sometimes she can't imagine ever feeling joy again. I want to say, "It has to get better," but will that really help her in the moment?

    * When a situation ISN'T going to pass, that phrase is like putting a band-aid on a severed artery. My sister has dementia. It isn't going to get better. We're trying to do everything we can to keep her happy and safe, but we all know that at some point, she isn't even going to know who we are.

    * Even when you know the storm WILL pass, that only goes so far when you're in it. Do we wait for Jesus to come walking toward us on the roiling sea and beckon us to walk with him? Can we? Should we be doing something?

I'd love to hear your thoughts on a few things --

    * Does "This too shall pass?" help? Has it in your experience? Or has it elicited other feelings?

    * What's your current storm? (Don't feel a need to write a lengthy comment unless of course you want to. We love all kinds -- but I know you're busy with these New Adult lives you're trying to live)

    * Will it pass on its own? What part does your faith play? What are you trying to do about it? MELODY's comment is a good one to read if you haven't already.

I'm turning now to some squalls I need to deal with this morning. Funny ... I feel clearer about facing them now that I've written this. Go figure.

Blessings,

Nancy Rue