It doesn’t seem normal. How does one lose their heart amid the noise of thunderous thought?
I notice the leaves are falling, they are the first to exit from the already unsteady branch, almost announcing the beginning of the disruption.
The winds of change have started to blow, howling ever so gently at first but now making their presence known in full force.
They are here and they are heard. I hear them.
The dark clouds have been hovering, becoming a resident fixture in the color of our days, but all has been dry save for the occasional sprinkle of rain.
Thunder claps as if opening a curtain. The reckoning, anticipated but never desired, is here.
The deluge begins. The reality of the storm is making its presence known. This is a perfect combination of wind and water and confrontation from the weather.
There is no refuge or sanctuary from its reality.
This is an onslaught of desperate challenge that is tearing down walls and building barricades of debris wherever it sees fit.
Visibility is at zero and a dense fog is sure to set in once the rain stops, a combination of pressure, humidity and environment controlling the elements.
The use of an umbrella, seeking shelter or asking for help seems futile in the midst of this perfect storm.
All appears lost in a sea of weathered confusion and destruction.
The wind of change has redistributed the landscape before us and our path toward home seems altered.
Even if we must wade through the rain, even if we must face this brilliantly, perfect, so-enticing storm, we must fight to make it home again, for it is there that we belong.
And, in the comfort and shelter of home, safe from the storm and protected from the treacherous, mindful attack of the winds of change, therein resides our heart, a loving instrument of faith, family and peace – our normal heart.