It was the night of July 5, 2003 as I walked to my tent at 11:30 p.m. I was on vacation with my family. The kids were both asleep in the old farmhouse with my wife, but since I have allergies to dust, I chose to sleep in a tent in the yard. We had just come in from the lake after watching the fireworks that the local fire department sets off every year from an island on Seneca Lake. I could still hear the sounds of firecrackers that the neighbors were lighting.
I had no difficulty falling asleep, in spite of the noise from the neighbors. The sound of thunder in the distance didn’t bother me either. The weather had been perfect all weekend, despite the prognostications of a few pessimistic weathermen, so I expected the storms to pass over yet again. I was wrong.
I woke to an incredibly loud clap of thunder, which was followed by an impossibly bright flash of light, and another crashing sound. The rain was pelting my tent, and was blowing in through the screens. I zipped the windows shut and settled back into bed. The noise of the rain didn’t bother me, and the storm seemed to be moving away. I figured the worst was over. Again, I was wrong.
Within minutes, the intensity of the storm doubled. There was an almost constant flashing of lightning, and the sound of the thunder melded into a single rolling rumble, accentuated at times with loud explosions as lightning struck nearby. That’s when I felt the first drop.
Several others followed it. The wind had picked up and was now blowing the rain up under the fly of my tent and in through the roof screens, and there was no closing them.
My allergies didn’t seem so important at this point and I decided that I had to make a run for the house, about 60 yards away, and the storm was still getting worse. I was, for the first time, starting to get scared. I tried to avoid the waterfall coming in the top of my tent as I put on a pair of shorts in the corner of the tent. It didn’t matter; I still managed to get a splash of cold water on my face as I put on my shoes. If I wasn’t completely awake before, I was now.
I decided to wait for a lull in the storm to make my run. It wasn’t abating, though, so I decided to just run for it NOW! I took the time to say a quick prayer. I think it was something like, “God help me.”
I unzipped the door to the tent and exited. By the time I re-zipped the door, I was soaked to the skin. I looked toward the light near the front door of the house and started running. I stopped to catch my breath for about ten seconds at a pavilion, which was at the halfway point between my tent and the house.
As I set back out into the storm, a bolt of lightning struck just behind the house. It lit the entire yard in an eerie way that made me think that I wasn’t going to make it. It was almost a surreal experience seeing lightning strike so close. For a fraction of a second it was actually brighter than daylight. I knew then that my fate was in God’s hands. Nonetheless, I kept running.
As I neared the front door of the cabin, I switched my bag from my right hand to my left so I could use my stronger hand to open the door. As I stepped onto the concrete pad in front of the door, though, I got a surprise.
The door opened in front of me. My mother was there holding it open so I could dash in. My wife was waiting there also with a towel for me to dry off. I thanked them both and asked why they were both downstairs in the middle of the night. “We were waiting for you, ” my mom said, “We knew that eventually you had to come in. I’m surprised you stayed out there as long as you did.” It was three o’clock in the morning.
I went to the bathroom, toweled off and changed into some dry clothes. The storm was finally abating outside as I climbed the stairs and got into the nice dry bed that my wife had made for me as I was changing. Before I fell asleep, I took time to thank God for the women in my life who had given me comfort when I needed it. I realized as I was praying that what I had just experienced was a metaphor for heaven.
When life’s storms become too much to bear, God calls us home. When we get home, there will be loved ones there to hold the door for us, God will wipe the tears of the world from our eyes, and Jesus will lead us to a warm and safe place of rest that He has prepared.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Revelation 21:4 NIV
In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. John 14:2 NIV
