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The Storm


I walk the pier on a day there's a storm.
The wind blows fierce,
rips at my clothes,
whips the water into waves
that crash against the rocks
and burst into a million bubbles.
They spray me like a shower.
I face the gale head-on,
lean into the angry wind
and yell above its howl.

Life, mostly, is a breeze for me
but sometimes it grows dark -
Storms comeup to beat and thrash
and suck the wind right out of me.
But there's a light -
it sprinkles silver on my path;
it helps me find my way.
With my eyes fixed on the Light,
with my feet fixed on the Rock,
God gives me strength to face my storms.
He says I can lean on Him
and run to Him for shelter.


Angelina Fast-Vlaar
(for my grand-son, Benjamin)