“You see, that’s the beauty of storms. They knock things over, they clear things out, they stir up the buried dirt. And sometimes your life needs exactly that! To be cleared out and dug up.”

This week we are headed on a family beach vacation! Packing my kids clothes for the beach reminded me of my first ever trip to the ocean. I was 5 and I was visiting my Grandad in Florida in April. He took us to Pine Island. All I remember is the sound of the waves, the smell of my Grandad’s pipe and the pure joy I felt!!

I found the one, single picture that documents this event last year when I decided to organize my basement to keep from going pandemic crazy. The picture told a slightly different story. The photo shows me only toes deep and my brother on his butt with teeth clenched, reaching toward the camera like his life depended on it. My Grandad is also in the photo, laughing.

I asked both my mom and my brother about it and they both said the same thing “oh it was awful! It was freezing cold”. Apparently my Grandad didn’t care about the temperature. He was determined to get us in the ocean for the first time in our life. It just completely blew my mind! I remembered pure bliss, they remembered freezing cold uncomfortableness. Who knew?!

My Grandad was a wonderful Grandad to me. He lived in Florida for the entirety of my life. I’ve always lived in Ohio. Maybe the distance made our hearts grow fonder or maybe it didn’t make any difference at all. All I KNOW with 100% certainty is that when I was with him I felt like the most magical little girl this earth has ever seen! Edit: the most magical “baby girl” this earth has ever seen. He called me that, “baby girl”, up until the end when his dementia stole his memory of me.

My Grandad and I’s visits were full of talks about baseball, bull riding, why Conway Twitty was superior to Johnny Cash and every single nuanced detail about his neighbors that I didn’t even know. He also had all kinds of life lessons to share:

“If ya wanna good huntin’ dag, ya better feed her before ya feed yourself!”

(I had zero intentions of being a hunter.)

“You keep goin’ to church baby girl, even if you don’t listen the whole time”

(I had zero intentions of listening at all.)

“Anytime ya see water in Flordy u better bet a gators in it, ooooo doggy”

(I had zero understanding of what a doggy had to do with alligators in FloridA)

But in addition to giving out all that advice, he listened to me. With his full attention, he listened to what I said. He listened to why I thought fairies were real. The details of how my brother got away with everything just because he was younger. Why Daisy Duck was far better than Minnie Mouse. He listened to it all, like it was the most brilliant conversation he had ever had.

In 2017 when I found out my son was going to be a boy, I already knew I would name him after my Grandad (as well as my husband’s Grandpas). When I told my family the name I picked out, I got the slow, awkward smiles and the “oh that’s nice” comments. You see, some people’s “photographs” of my Grandad were different than mine. I came into this world at the end of my Grandad’s life. He had done a lot of living before I met him. He had a past and I don’t think it was always full of Florida sunshine and “baby girls”, if you know what I mean.

The small details I know about my Grandad’s life before his Grandad years came from overhearing whispered conversations between my family members when I wasn’t supposed to be listening. He was good at baseball. He grew up in Southern Ohio on a family farm. He was in the Army before he fell head over heels in love with my grandmother (who passed before I was born) and had five children. He never missed a day of work. NEVER.

He also drank. A lot. He and alcohol did NOT mix well and a lot of others paid the price for that. He quit drinking, cold turkey, one day years before I was born. But, alot of damage had already been done.

My son, the one I named after my Grandad turned 4 years old this week. He is full of energy! Soooo much energy! He is also full of so much genuine kindness and love. I always say he is 50% Charmer and 50% Hurricane. It’s funny but as exhausting as the hurricane part can be, I am so grateful for it.

Before my son was born, I was a first time mom to my daughter. I worried about every detail. The feeding schedule, the sleep schedule, the vaccination schedule, how my work schedule affected her psyche. It was just worry and schedule. Schedule and worry some more.

When my son was born, he blew the windows right out of that schedule, ooooo doggy! I went from organized chaos to pretending to manage chaos to just embracing the chaos. You see, that’s the beauty of storms. They knock things over, they clear things out, they stir up the buried dirt. And sometimes your life needs exactly that! To be cleared out and dug up.

My son, my Hurricane, forces me to move. He forces me to LIVE! He forces me to let my hair down, feel the wind and brave the storm of life! He brings me out of my head and reminds me to stop thinking so much. He will forever be the storm that saves me from myself.

It’s hard for me to ever imagine that this sweet little boy will drink alcohol or hurt another human or fall in love, even. But my heart knows he will. I can already tell he has the soul that will crave to experience life. To stretch life to its limits. To get dirty and messy. To get drenched by everything life has to offer.

My prayer, though, is that when his storm runs out of rain, he is not overwhelmed by the devastation it caused. I hope he remembers his namesake. I hope he knows that it is never too late for redemption.

Because, no matter how much destruction my Grandad caused during his storms, he will always be the calm after the storm to me. The proof that people can and do change. The proof that there is still a chance…

There are so many things about God and Jesus that get lost in religious arguments and politics and weird rules and people’s opinions. But one thing we can’t argue is that Jesus Christ and His Resurrection is the ultimate tale of redemption. If Jesus had lived forever, then the beauty of believing without knowing is gone and free will is wasted. If Jesus had died and stayed dead then he would have just been another crazy prophet that got it wrong. But because Jesus died and THEN lived…he showed us all he was exactly who he said he was: The Son of God who came to give us the gift of REDEMPTION!

You see, friends, we are human. Humans get it all wrong. We become storms. We become hurricanes of our own creation. There will always be someone or something that destructs in our path, even though we don’t mean for it to happen. No matter how well we think we are doing, there is always someone else holding a photograph that tells a different story. But if we control our storm for too long, then we forget to live. We miss out on our chance to let life clear out the stuff and dig up the dirt.

Redemption is the only way out. The only way to let the storm loose but manage the destruction. God gave us the one and only thing that could save us. He gave us 50% Hurricane and 50% Charmer. He gave us truth and grace. He gave us redemption.

I pray you never forget what God gave you as you continue on your journey. Storms are definitely ahead, but so is your life and if you choose to follow Jesus, that life will be eternal! The destruction of your past will never change God’s offer. Choose wisely, my friends. After all, your eternal life depends upon it!

Safe Travels!

Morgan Rae