As invading dampness in my clothes creates chaffing

I curse the terrible way this day is shaping.

Hugging my arms in close against the wind and the rain

I wonder if I’ll ever see home again.

Withdrawing in against the nausea and the fear

Others are there but them I don’t see or hear.

Too noisy, too wet, too windy by half!

A day out fishing with the boys, what a laugh!

Flying debris again just misses my head

A storm so severe I wish I was dead.


The storm so big, so ferocious, so scary I want to die

Has me overwhelmed and drawn deep inside

It’s become all about me, myself and I

And questioning, wondering “why me, why?”

Others, in the midst of it all, fighting strong, brave and tall

Were there but shivering I choose to ignore them all

This storm so big, it must be about me, I thought as it formed

So scary, so impacting, all me, this, my iStorm


Amidst the complete chaos I’m pulled out of myself by loud shouts

“No! Simon! No!”  “What? He’s out!”

I look up, and notice for the first time, something beyond me

I look up and there’s Jesus calmly walking on the sea.

And Simon too, takes a step in the waves

Before a sinking fall that Jesus saves.


In the midst of my storm I hadn’t noticed, hadn’t seen

That Jesus was with me and had always been.

I didn’t sense His presence, in my selfish focus

Thinking all about I and me and not seeing us

I missed a miracle, Simon walking I didn’t see

If I’d left my iStorm it could have been me

There with Jesus, dancing on the sea.

I missed the spectating and the option to jump

Reducing the universe to just me in this bump.

I should have looked out and faced the sea.

I should have realised the world is not just me.

I should have helped or prayed or done something more,

Than sit in a corner and questioned “why me?” like a bore


Later I pause before opening my front home gate

I raise my eyes to heaven before it’s too late

“God, I know I’m about to enter another storm

Where chaos and stress is quite the norm

Overwhelmed wife and mother-in-law so ill

Children crying and screeching at will

I bring home a few dollars that won’t go far

Adding to insecurities about being a bad pa

This storm is not just about me, so I look to you

Cos, Lord I just don’t know what to do

Come and fill me with your peace and calm

So I can bring your grace and not selfish harm.”




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Not My Choice

How to Never ask Why again

Why Bad Things Happen to Good People – The Answer


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