“A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.” ~ Catherine the Great
Well, so much for imagination, bring on the Tylenol. A great wind really did blow through my neighborhood this past weekend and it didn’t leave much for our imagination. Instead, we ended up with the headache, an expensive one.
We live in the country about six miles out of my hometown. Our home, situated on a couple of acres of what used to be farmland on the rise of a small hill, nestles in a bit of a valley. Sounds tranquil, doesn’t it? It’s not; it’s like living in a wind tunnel!
The wind whips up our little valley and slams into our house with such force sometimes we actually hear it hit our attached garage and whoosh around us. We’ve grown accustomed to Christmas wreaths blowing off our windows and doors, flower pots dancing across the deck floor, patio furniture taking nose dives off the deck and even shingles flapping off the roof.
Friday night a windstorm blustered through and funneled into our valley with ferocious force. It slammed, it banged, it whumped, it thumped. For a minute, we thought we were hearing thunder, continuous thunder. Then we realized the wind was savagely ripping something from our house. Hubby opened up our deck door and a flash of white sailed by – a piece of our vinyl siding!
Hubby climbed out a second-story window onto our front porch roof which gives easier access to the garage roof than climbing up a ladder. He hoped to salvage some of the siding and slide it back in place – in the middle of a windstorm – but to no avail. I felt certain he would be whacked on the head by flying siding and fall off the roof, so I fearfully yelled into the gusty gale for him to come back inside.
By the time the wind huffed and puffed its way out of our area, the upper part of our house (which faces the wind tunnel) was left naked. Slats of siding and broken pieces of white vinyl were strewn hither and yon in both our front and back yard. Portions of our snow fence, which helps keep our driveway from drifting shut with snow, were blown completely off the posts. Not a pretty sight.
American author Mark Twain once said, “Our best built certainties are but sand-houses and subject to damage from any wind of doubt that blows.”
I understand what he meant. Doubt can take down a house built on sand in no time flat. So if you build your house on the sand or even in a wind tunnel, prepare to sustain some damage. You might even get blown away!
That reminds me what Jesus said in Matthew 7:24-27. “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his home on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”
Of course, Jesus was talking about more than houses here. He was talking about putting our faith into practice, about not just being a hearer of God’s Word, but a doer. Any building that expects to stand the test of time better have a strong foundation. It’s the same way for faith – we must build it on the Rock, our Savior Jesus Christ.
It’s Chapter Two, page 22, in my book, Opportunity (2011) and I’m glad to say at our house we have a strong foundation, our faith in God. There is no doubt. We may have flying siding, flapping shingles, blown down fences and our house may be shaken, but we will stand firm in our faith.