The Raging Storm

Hey everyone,

This is Marcus. I am attempting to share with readers from the perspective of a dad. This is not the first storm that Rachel and I have been in, and the last time we went through something of this magnitude God led me back to school. It was when Rachel lost her father to pancreatic cancer in the summer of 2007 that we began our journey toward medical school. I wouldn't dare classify this as ironic that the week we accomplished the first stage of that journey and a beautiful rainbow had time to show its brilliant colors that a new storm cloud was already forming on the horizon. There is no classification system in place for the storms of life, but any storm that threatens the life of a fathers son would get the highest rating in my book.

The morning and evenings, as I have shared with a few close friends, are difficult. The evenings for a simple reason; it is hard to turn off my brain at night. The mornings are hard for a very different reason. I like to run, and I run about 6 miles 3-4 days a week. It has become incredibly difficult to finish my runs. There is a new dynamic to the strain on my heart. I find myself in the silent, dark, and chilly streets with nothing to keep me company many times but the dry, fallen leaves as they blow in the morning wind under the dim street lights. The emotions that are in my spirit find a way to flood my veins. I feel as though my heart pumps sludge. In basic terms, I suffer from a heavy heart.

I have been here before, from many different reasons of course, but the intensity makes me feel more like I am under the pressure of the deepest ocean. 90% of my day is filled with encouragement from friends, family and selected media, but these runs are where I am forced to face this situation alone. When my legs grow faint, my heart tires, and it feels hard to breathe, I listen for The One who can help. Grace is an incredible thing. It has the same feeling of being covered by the deepest ocean, except it doesn't crush. Grace lifts. I am convinced that this is the same grace that led David to say:

I love you, LORD; you are my strength.
The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior;
my God is my rock, in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the power that saves me,
and my place of safety.
I called on the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
and he saved me from my enemies.
The ropes of death entangled me;
floods of destruction swept over me.
The grave wrapped its ropes around me;
death laid a trap in my path.
But in my distress I cried out to the LORD;
yes, I prayed to my God for help.
He heard me from his sanctuary;
my cry to him reached his ears.
Psalm 18: 1- 6

My heart is nervous, to where will God Lead our family this time and for what purpose. The day we learned of Jax's diagnosis I said, "Something good will come of this. Something very good." I am resolved to weather this storm, to bend and not break, and Stand in Grace.

I wrote this a few years ago. I thought it was for then, but I realize it is for now.

Storms End

Life in this world - a cloudless sky

Pay no attention to what passes by

Standing in the street – one-cloud rolls

“Keep my footing” – the church bell tolls

Temperature drops – concrete cracks

More clouds coming – rain drops on my back

Hail hits hard – people get pounded

Won’t take a look – “feet keep grounded”

Drizzle turned to sheets - concrete turns muddy

I Chanced a sight – the water looks bloody

Wind rushes - trees are snapped - and towers are buckled

“I Can’t give up” – red fisted, and white knuckled

Water beats my face – “this storm’s evil”

Strained to squint – “there’s the steeple”

Legs grow faint – streetlights bend

Stand in grace, son - all storms end

--Marcus