Celebrating Between Storms


I spent the weekend between storms.

We went on a whirlwind beach trip that involved a 7-hour-turned-10-hour drive down to Florida after work on Friday with a few close friends and a few less-than-close friends to spend all day Saturday and a small portion of Sunday at a beautiful beach house before turning around to come back in time to get some sleep before work Monday.

It was crazy. It was beautiful.

I almost didn’t go. It was a long week, I was tired and not feeling especially social.

But more importantly, there was a 100% chance of rain.

It was supposed to rain all weekend. Not just afternoon storms, like the Gulf usually expects, but all day, all night downpours. We brought games and books and committed to making the best of it, even when an overturned tractor trailer made our trip hours longer than we had anticipated, late into an already-long Friday.

It was drizzly Saturday morning when I woke up after not enough sleep, but we decided to hit the beach before the storms really came.

They never did.

It was supposed to rain at 10, 11, 2. We stayed until we could stay no longer. I read and napped and dipped my toes in the Gulf and celebrated that for this moment, there was no rain.

We went for a midnight walk and swim, but by then it was raining in earnest. We celebrated that for the moment, there was no lightning, and we watched the waves crash and the wind blow as we said goodbye to the sea.

The lightning began as we walked back, and we celebrated the safety of our warm house and quiet beds.

We awoke to a tornado warning this morning, to frantic news anchors and winds blowing trees until they looked like they would snap in half.

But we celebrated the early hour with coffee and bananagrams, safe in the haven of our beautiful house.

The storm passed and we drove home, where they’re predicting storms and rain for tonight and tomorrow.

But we drove through spectacular blue skies and verdant greens, buoyed, no doubt, by the abundance of rain we have had in the past week. As the sun set, we could see lightning flickering high in the clouds above the lights of the city we call home.

I spent the weekend between storms.

It’s still not raining yet, but I can see the lightning on the horizon.

I think life is lived between storms, and banking on the weather predictions has only ever led to giving up on what could be.


They say that life is about learning to dance in the rain, but I only think that’s true if you were planning on dancing anyway.

I think life is about learning to trust that it will rain when it needs to and that the time between the storms will be what it needs to be. I think life is about learning to predict sunshine in the face of storm clouds, about not letting the weather define who you are and what you do.

I think life is about celebrating.

There’s a storm coming. But tonight I am home and dry and safe, and maybe that is worth celebrating.

Photo by Albert Mock, via flickr.

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