March. 2019.
My family and I huddled in our hallway.
We had already heard our veranda roof fly off.
We were horrified,
Wondering if Cyclone Idai was going to take our entire
roof.
And I lay worrying about all whom I love
That live in
much less.
Much, much less.
As I lay praying and pleading, I felt God say,
“My hand is over you.”
From then on,
With every gust,
I cupped my hand and imagined the hand of God holding our
roof in place.
Cyclone Idai, rocked us and shook us
But I knew God’s hand was over us.
Days later, when power was restored
I received an email from a friend.
He wrote while the winds blew,
“What a monstrous storm,
As I write this, the eye is over Beira,
And God’s hand is over you.”
Yes, God’s hand was over us.
But then the news came,
That children and mothers climbed trees to escape
rising floodwaters,
Weary mothers couldn’t hold on any longer,
Some watched as their children fell into rushing
waters that weren’t supposed to be there.
I then wondered,
“where was God’s hand there?”
He showed me,
He was catching them.
December 30, 2020.
My husband and I again find ourselves laying in our hallway.
In complete surrender,
We had done all we could,
Now we prayed our roof would stay on.
Again.
Then, I remembered,
God’s hand is over us.
Again, I cupped my hand with every gust.
January 15, 2021.
My friend came for my birthday.
She gave me a beautiful gift.
Her husband and my children thought it was creepy.
I thought it was beautiful.
Powerful.
Holy.
Tonight, I'll likely find myself in the hallway again.
Surrendered to Cyclone Eloise.
Once again,
I’ll cup my hand and know,
Whatever happens,
Roof or no roof.
Crumbled houses around me
And washed out roads before me.
God’s hand is over us.
