Since my wife is the true writer in the family, I thought that I would share some of her work with you today.  This is a true story that we experienced almost eight years ago in Palo Duro Canyon.

There is s beautiful place tucked deep in the heart of an oversized canyon. It is an out door amphitheatre that seats around 1,500 people. The outdoor musical drama “Texas” takes place on a terracotta stage enclosed by a painted backdrop of rolling hills, wild brush, sweet scented flowers, summer cactus, and red rock.  Driving down the red clay road brought back memories of the many hours I spent on that rock stage. For two summers, I spent six days a week singing and acting. It was an exciting journey for me and now I was getting an opportunity to return to that place of I loved so much.

Right before we left our hotel a weather bulletin came on to report storm warnings and tornados in the area.  Yes, we were in Texas, the heart of tornado country and when they spoke of it, we rose up and paid attention.

Now settled in our seats, I noticed the dark clouds closing in and I began to worry. A flash back of one night many years ago suddenly hit causing my heart to palpitate. A tornado rarely touched down in the canyon, but one evening before opening night of the show, a tornado swept through the canyon like the Tasmanian devil exerting his authority. It destroyed everything, the stage, sets, trees, and even caused a huge flood, which ended the lives of two people camping in the canyon.

My husband began to prepare for the weather and made his way to the top of the stairs and into the gift shop to buy rain ponchos for the four of us. The pitter of drops fell upon my shoulder as I watched people all over the theatre begin to put on their rain ponchos. There we sat, all four of us, with yellow rain ponchos on looking like little ducks sitting in a row. My children asked their dad why he didn’t get blue or green ponchos like everyone else. We all had a good laugh about that one but in the end the yellow ponchos would prove to be meaningful.

The show started and we watched as the dancers kicked up the water splashing it upon those in the first few rows. Large drops of water began to fall from the sky and then even larger ones after that. I could barely hear the singing due to the huge drops falling on the hard stone.   Suddenly the clouds opened up and poured buckets of water. People began to scatter almost like ants when their home has been disrupted. Grumblings and then panicked screams were heard through out the amphitheatre. Thunder cracked the sky and lightning lit it up like large fireflies. A flash here, there, and around the back of us hit the deep black sky.

I held tight to one son and David held onto our other son. The crowd moved quickly almost smothering one another. There was no room to squeeze between anyone and somehow David and my youngest son became separated from me and my oldest son. I watched the two yellow ponchos drift farther away from me until they were out of sight.  As soon as I found an opening my son and I raced toward the small overhead. Crowds of people gathered. My son and I pushed our way through mounds of blue and green ponchos squeezing through this spot and almost crawling under other spots to find the rest of our family. We looked for the yellow ponchos. The wind thrust us forward and the rain soaked our clothing but we kept looking. Not long after, I rounded the corner of a nook and suddenly spotted two yellow ponchos. David was in full pastor mode kneeling down on one knee ministering to three senior adults who looked to be in their eighties. The seniors sat on a bench under a small ledge to where most of the water missed them. Fear captured their hearts and I could see it clearly upon their creased faces. My husband kneeled in the water to get eye level with them. One arm embraced the seat they sat on while the other was used to hold himself up from the storm. He soothed, he comforted, he reassured – he ministered.

Suddenly the lights went out and we stood engulfed in darkness. More screams. More groans. More Fear. I eased my way over to stand beside David; the whole while my two boys clutched tightly. I whispered in his ear, “This looks like a tornado.”  He smiled calmly and shook his head in agreement. “Where is our help?” I anxiously thought.  “Why hasn’t anyone come out to help us?”

As the lightning lit up the sky, I could see the gathering of dark clouds on the ledge up top.

“There’s a tornado up top!” I heard someone scream out.  I become even more frightened. There was no place to go. This was it. This would be the only shelter we get and I knew it wouldn’t help much if a tornado were to touch down among us.

People began to break up and run toward the buses and their vehicles. David stayed put, kneeling eye-level with the ladies, comforting and reassuring them that he would help them get to their bus.

“Everything will be all right,” he said to them.

To me everything seemed to get worse. The water started to rise and the roads began to flood. After a while shots fired. I jumped and grabbed my children.

“It’s the fireworks!” My husband shouted over the storm. “They are releasing the fireworks!”

It sounded like guns going off or thunder hitting the heart of the stage. That only added to all of the commotion, causing more panic among the people. After what appeared to be an eternity, a man finally appeared. Draped in a large gray poncho, he took his black flashlight and shined it among our faces.

Straining to see, he bellowed, “You all need to go right now!”

David helped the ladies find their buses.  “A pastor to the end, “I thought. “Even during a raging storm.”

We all decided that the four of us would lock arms and make a run for it. Somehow we needed to get to our car and try to make our way out of the flooding canyon. It was total chaos!  People were running and scattering trying to do the same. The buses were trying to get everyone loaded. Cars were trying to get out. It was horrible. The rain hit us hard and the sky danced a fearful dance. We had to scream to hear one another speak. “Hold on tight!” David’s voice echoed through the shattering pricks of rain. I almost didn’t have the strength to stand against the wind. It reminded me of a game my brothers used to play as a child where two people locked wrists and wrestled each other out of their territory. Back and forth the two would go until one person lost his balance. The winds were playing the game and winning. We stepped out against the strong current. The blustering weather kept pushing us back as we continued on against it in slow motion. We held tight to our ponchos, little good that did; we were soaked from head to toe. My feet felt like mush. The water was up to mid calf now but we pressed onward. All of the sudden in the midst of the dancing lights, an enormous bolt of thunder struck close by causing us all to jump.

I turned and noticed young Jaren, my oldest son, yelling over the mighty winds. The small voice sounded as if it were a mile away. He forcefully yelled out, “Don’t worry MOM!”  “There’s only a one percent chance that you will get struck by lightning!”

I yelled out to him, “Whaaaaaat!”  While still trying to move forward in my locked arm position. The wind howled and the rain stung, all the while my legs fighting to move.

Jaren yelled out again, “Don’t worry; there’s only a one percent chance that you will get struck by lightning!”

All of the sudden my fear disappeared and my heart lightened! I couldn’t help myself! I burst out in laughter. I laughed and laughed. I laughed so hard I was crying. My tears fit right in with the rain soaking my face. Jaren began laughing too. He let go of my hand and began dancing and singing his way back to the car, all the while kicking up the water, while fireworks and lightening took turns exploding in the black sky. I quickly reached out to grab hold of him when the Lord said, “He’s embracing the storm Tina. Let him embrace the storm.”

I have been through many storms in my life since that storm and have spent most of them with locked arms fighting and pushing my way through. Sometimes my emotional storms appear just as frightening as the storm we faced that day. I don’t always listen for the small voice yelling out to me from afar telling me that that there’s only a small chance that this storm will end my life. . . And so I end up fighting to get through the storm rather than letting go and embracing it – rather than kicking my heels up and dancing my way through it – rather than filling my soul with laughter and song – I fight it. I am learning that God wants us to become a child in the storm. God wants us to let go of all fear and entrust our well being to Him knowing that with the whisper of “be still” He can calm it. God wants us to sing with the thunder, dance among the lightening, and pitter patter with the drops of the rain. God wants us to embrace the storm – no matter how fierce it may appear.

I never took my eyes off of Jaren that evening as he danced his way to safety . . . and God will never take His eyes off of me.

–Tina Samples

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