If Surrounded by Lightning Bolts, Look Up

Tornadoes hardly ever strike Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. So that was the last thing we expected when we decided to spend the Fourth of July weekend there in 2001, along with nearly 400,000 other unsuspecting vacationers.
My son Ben, 9 years old at the time, was on the beach with some neighbor friends who were vacationing with us. Feeling safe in the family-friendly atmosphere, we lost sight of the boys, who ended up a considerable distance away by the time we saw the lightning.
Everyone assumed this would be a brief afternoon thunderstorm. No big deal, we thought.
But then the sky became eerily grey. And the winds intensified. Dust and debris swirled all around us. Beach chairs spun in the air. Lifeguards quickly evacuated the beach.
But there was still no sign of Ben or his friends.
Meanwhile, this vicious funnel of destruction ravaged a two-mile path along the beach, knocking over buses and utility poles, damaging roofs, and blowing out windows in buildings and vehicles. I later learned that 400,000 Myrtle Beach homes were left without power in the aftermath of its 157 mile-an-hour winds.
Just as the danger reached its pinnacle, some lifeguards arrived in their pickup truck with Ben’s friends—but without Ben. When I learned the boys had been separated and had no idea what happened to my son, I screamed at the top of my lungs, fearing the worst.
But to my great relief, I discovered later that Ben had found his way back to our room, completely unharmed. He had taken cover right before the tornado winds reach their destructive climax. His safety seemed a miracle, to say the least.
I had been on the fringe of powerful storms before, but this time my family was in the epicenter. The worst damage occurred at the Myrtle Beach Pavilion, right where we had been enjoying our peaceful vacation. I found out later that our minivan had been totaled by the high winds and debris. But that was OK. I just was grateful we all were safe and unharmed.
Storms can be scary, particularly when they come without warning.
This event taught me some important lessons about the storms of life. First, I saw that storms aren’t entirely bad. They have a way of showing us what’s really important. As the Myrtle Beach tornado brought its swirling destruction my way, I realized my van and belongings were of little value in comparison to the safety of my precious son Ben.
I also saw that life’s storms often seem to come “out of nowhere,” when we least expect them. Without warning, blue skies and sunny days can be replaced by dark clouds and torrential rains. So when the storms of life converge against you on every side, look UP! That’s where your help will come from.
What about you?
• Life’s storms can help us see what is truly important in our lives. If you faced a serious tornado, hurricane, flood, earthquake or other natural disaster, what person or possession would be most important for you to keep safe?