It's rare to go more than two weeks without seeing your state stained with that red "severe" blob on the weather man's map.
When I was a child, I was fascinated with weather. I wanted to know every possible type of cloud that could produce harmful conditions.
When most kids my age were reading books about bunnies and rainbows, I was reading books about cumulonimbus clouds.
When a tornado was predicted to move in my family's direction, my father would toss canned goods from the pantry.
I had a few close calls with some cans of sweet corn.
We would huddle in the pantry or throw mattresses on top of us in a narrow hallway.
Then wait.
In silence.
For our inescapable impending doom.
Just kidding.
We're all still alive and kicking.
Regardless, I developed an obsession and fear of storms.
Not because I was so educated on them, or had even known someone affected by them.
I was afraid because I was out of control.
I was afraid because those around me were reacting in a way that made me afraid too.
I didn't even know what I was afraid of, I just was because it was instilled in me to be so.
I remember my mother would always start making breakfast when a storm would begin to brew.
Typically my stomach would be in all sorts of knots, but when my mother began to toast the bread and scramble eggs I felt better.
She just seemed so calm when there were so many reasons to be scrambling around for shelter;
Instead, my mother scrambled eggs.
She buttered toast.
She poured me a glass of milk and sat down at the kitchen table.
She talked about simple things.
The neighbors cat probably whipped past the kitchen window to its death, yet we laughed and ate our malt-o meal between lightening strikes.
Those scrambled egg sandwiches simply meant distraction to me as a kid from the storm, but as an adult they taught me life lessons.
I face many storms through the seasons of my life, mainly spiritual/emotional.
Life sometimes knocks me on my butt, in the middle of a summer storm.
I have two choices: run to the mattresses or make a scrambled egg sandwich.
I know what you're thinking:
"What in the...is she talking about?"
It's simple.
God is currently scrambling me some eggs and pouring me a glass of milk, asking me to come sit down and stop emptying my pantry in a fearful rage.
Someone recently pointed out to me that God wasn't making a friendly suggestion when He said "Do not worry," He was giving us a command.
Do not worry.
Do not fear.
Do not pass go or collect $100.
Just kidding, that wasn't in the bible.
Duh.
But really, do not worry.
Eat a scrambled egg sandwich.
Storms always pass, even if sometimes with a cost and some debris.
But they always pass.
If I'm going to wait out a storm, I'm going to take it with stride and a side of toast thank you.
We've all heard the cliche saying: "it's not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to the dance in the rain."
Don't do that.
That's stupid.
You'll get wet and look like an idiot.
You're probably a terrible dancer.
You can find shelter without hiding from reality.
You don't have to wallow in rain puddles to prove you've been through a storm, but you also don't have to find a fraidy-hole to duck into like a coward.
Go through your storms with dignity.
Seek protection from the elements.
Do not wallow in your despair.
Do not gloat in your battle scars.
Simply pop open your umbrella and move forward.
Then sit down and eat a scrambled egg sandwich.
