With the Words "Tornado Warning."

An Essay By Arya Animarus // 4/16/2011

Today I was sitting at my computer typing up a story, when the weather station called. My dad answered it and after listening, told everyone to get to the middle of the house because there was a tornado near our house. We all ran to the downstairs bathroom, which is in the middle of the house and sat down (thank goodness it's so big, I have six sibs). If you know me at all, I have a HUGE fear of tornados, and I am not stressing that point at all. As I sat against the wall of the bathroom, shivering and moaning like a wild animal, with my brothers all joking and laughing and teasing me, I started thinking about my faith. Am I really a Christian? Will I really go to heaven when I die? What about all the prayers I've prayed, asking for so many selfish things? I was whispering pleas for protection for me and all my friends and our church body and almost everyone I know in our immediate area. I realized that some things are given, but some things are also taken. I started thinking about all the immature and childish thoughts and stories I've written, and all the worldly things I've longed for. I suppose that "whatever is pure"* wasn't one of them. I was mumbling names of people I knew who were out of range of the tornado and I was asking God to somehow let them know that I was thinking of them when I died (I know, pathetic, right?). I now wonder what God would think of my pitiful little life that I squandered doing nothing but seeking my own pleasure, and how I expected him to save it for nothing. If I were God, I would let all those selfish, annoying little people on earth die whenever because of what they thought. I am so glad that God is a merciful, loving God. How often we take God for granted as a personal insurance/protection unit, just there to talk to and send messages and give us stuff and keep us safe when we wat him to. I never really realized that he is in control and he will do whatever he wants to. The lights in the bathroom flickered and went out (If you've ever been to our house, you know that if the lights go out in the house in the daytime, the downstairs bathroom is the darkest place in the house) and mom lit a candle. The lights suddenly sprang to life again after what seemed like an eternity (in reality, five seconds). The phone rang, and thank goodness it was in the bathroom with us, and it was our grandpa. He lives near us and just heard that the tornado had passed (no thanks to the weather station that DIDN''T call us to tell us so). We came out and I seemed to "bounce back" quickly. I was my normal self, teasing and making a general mess of my life. I somehow see now that whenever I am faced with something scary or life-threatening, I will rattle off empty promises to God if he will only save me. How many of us do that? Life's not as full as it could be if only we would either keep, or never make those promises. I might not change, but I will certainly try. With the Lord's help, I might just make it.


*Philippians 4:8


This was very good and

This was very good and insightful! It is both comforting and somewhat frightening to know that God is in complete control.

We've gone to the basement twice, I think, in the six years that we've been in Iowa, but God has really been merciful. My mom and brother were driving home once and they saw a tornado out in a cornfield, but that's probably the closest any of us have ever been to one.

Laura Elizabeth | Wed, 04/20/2011

The best stories are those that are focused, unassuming, and self-confident enough to trust the reader to figure things out. --