Dear readers, I wrote these few lines especially for those whose lives have been impacted by the viscious and deadly Hurricane Ivan. I hope these words of inspiration might work their way into your hearts and prove to be faith-strengthening, especially at this time:


IN THE EYE OF THE STORM (tribute to those impacted by Hurricane Ivan)

In the eye of the storm is the eye of a God
full of matchless wisdom,
who understands the uncontrollable mystery
of a raging storm and how its turbulence is satisfied.

In the eye of the storm—fierce and scolding,
Is the eye of a God—far more powerful,
who glanced down on his helpless people,
in times of old, split apart the Red Sea;
the congealing waters stood up like walls,
opening up a path so his people walked
on a dry bed of land.

In the eye of the storm is the eye of God—full of love,
that roved through overflowing rivers
through bright shoots of lightning
and saw that mankind needed a savior,
and sent his son to die for e’en the vilest sinner.

In the eye of the storm is the eye of God,
who searches through the shattered visage,
the colossal wreckage,
finds a heart that loves peace,
truth and righteousness, and he cherishes
and keeps this golden nugget.

In the eye of a storm is the eye of a God who sees
multitudes who crouch with horror and grisly fear,
and, howling out their woes they cry:
“O God! O God! Have mercy! Have mercy!”
This God will hearken to their cry.

In the eye of a storm is a God who looks
at the afflicted who run and leave behind all paraphernalia
and watch their homes go up
hurtling through the air and falling as fragments of debris,
This God promises riches untold.

In the eye of a storm is the eye of a caring God
who looks cautiously at violent waves
that abash so many of those who come face
to face with this formidable foe,
and he rescues them.

In the eye of a storm is a God with eyes—amazingly keen,
who through the howling winds that
snapped giant trees like tiny twigs,
can look far into the distance of time—the future
sees into the heart of the deepest grave
at the unsurvived—those who lay in quiet clay.
And brings to life those put there by the ravaging storms.

This God—Jehovah—will quiet all storms
Bring repose to those in distress
Bring about evenings where all
will be at peace—no storm—forever

—Glasceta Honeyghan (2004)

p.s perhaps those of us who read this poem could make hard copies and share with others, because indeed, as long as we are alive, we experience storms--more often figurative storms.