Stephen Yeargin

The first six months of 2009 have been filled with many storms. Tonight was yet another time that Samantha (who sprained her ankle yesterday and hasn’t been able to swiftly descend the stairs) wanted both of us to head down to the fitness center to avoid the oncoming storm. I had already ordered a pizza so, while she gently pedaled a stationary bike, I stayed in our upstairs apartment. The afternoon sky turned from a light blue haze to a deep gray with streaks of lightning chasing into the neighboring county.

One could not help but look at the map to other areas of the mid-state. To the far west, the newscaster repeatedly said the name of one of the communities where a co-worker lives. To the southwest, the community that my parents call home was getting high winds and heavy hail. Friends that had planned to see a movie on the lawn at Centennial Park were changing plans and shuffling over to safer locales.

It is fitting that many analogies to our human condition center around the idea of storms. Emotions rage beyond control and often beyond comprehension. The power of the winds is only matched by the resilience one sees in the aftermath. I have had a few storms of my own in the last few years, and some were of my own creation.

There is an old joke that says, “Hundreds of people are struck by lightning each year as they search for the silver linings in life.” I am usually one that accepts the reality as what it is rather than attempting to understand or change it. But I do have a need for a bit of reconciliation and a chance to find the calm that follows the storm – I am not a fan unfinished business.