After the Storm

Photo by Richard Collett 2023 

A few days after Hurricane Idalia hit Florida, we set out for our beach house with some trepidation. Although landfall had been considerably further north, and there were no immediate reports of damage, we really didn’t know what to expect from the storm surge. Neighbors had posted pictures of water breaching the sand dunes, passing under the beachfront homes, and crossing the street to the homes bordering the lagoon.

But thankfully, the homes are all raised on stilts; the winds had not been severe; and we found no structural damage to our home. As we had feared, the sand dunes that protect the beach from erosion had been leveled by the waves, and there were no signs of the brown rabbits and mourning doves that used to make their homes there. The sea turtle nests were washed away with the tide, and the pounding surf had dumped piles of sand underneath the homes.

From the photos, we had expected that the beach itself would have disappeared, covered in water that would prevent a stroll to admire the views and search for treasures. But to our astonishment, the beach was suddenly three or four times wider than it had been on our previous visit! Apparently the storm surge had dredged up sand from the ocean bottom and deposited it on the shore!

In fact, the excess sand had buried beach chairs, a grill, hose and trash can under our home. A rope placed across the path to the beach, once at waist level, was now by our ankles! When I thought of repeated attempts by the county to “renourish” the beach by dredging and depositing sand on the shore, at considerable taxpayer expense and resident inconvenience, I wondered if God were laughing (Psalm 2:4; 59:8), for He accomplished the same thing overnight, and much better at that!

Reassured by our findings, I began our stay with my favorite ritual of an early morning swim. The water that had been almost like a hot tub on our previous visit was now pleasantly refreshing, most likely from the cold rain that fell during the storm. But this day was sunny, the sky a brilliant blue with only a few wispy clouds.

As I began my aquatic exercise I noticed three such clouds overhead that transformed before my eyes. The cloud on the left became a rippled V-shape, like fanning flames, and the one on the right took on an elongated cumulus shape, glowing as it was backlit by the sun.

The cloud in the center was at a first a simple, empty cross, on which then appeared the body of Christ, crucified and slumping, a mournful expression in His eyes. But as I watched, the cloud changed and grew, so that His body was draped in a robe, His arms outstretched and head lifted as if He were ascending, and the cross was no longer visible.

I continued gazing in amazement, but within moments, the three clouds had dissipated into a few indistinguishable traces. To me, this had been a clear depiction of the Trinity (Luke 3:22; 1 John 5:7): the fanning flames representing the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1-4); the glowing cloud God the Father, Who appeared to Moses as a burning bush (Exodus 3:1-4) and to the Israelites as a pillar of fire over the tabernacle (Exodus 13:22; 40:38). The crucified, then ascended figure was Jesus Christ the Son, Who died to pay for our sins, was buried, and rose again the third day (1 Corinthians 15:1-4), that all who trust Him would have eternal life (John 3:16).

Physically and spiritually renewed, I joined my husband for a stroll on the beach. What a delight to see so many live coquinas, which had been absent on an earlier visit except for their cast-off shells, busily burrowing into the sand and resurfacing with each new wave! And this prolific bounty had attracted many shore birds: terns, plovers, sandpipers, and even a night heron. Evidently the cooler waters after the storm had again allowed the sea to teem with new life.

Beachcombing was plentiful also, with piles of multicolored scallop and cockle shells, iridescent pen shells, delicate white augurs, and sea potatoes, also known as heart urchins, each with star-shaped clefts once housing the sea urchin’s gills. The sea had churned up many fossils: shark’s teeth and chunks of sea turtle shell and mammal bone.

After a peaceful night’s sleep, soothed by the calming sound of the surf, I again returned to the pool to enjoy some quiet time with the Lord while swimming and admiring His creation. The sun was dazzling, transforming the water into a sparkling mosaic in shades of aqua and robin’s egg blue. The fronds of a palm tree shielding my view of the sun danced in the gentle breeze.

As if emanating from the sun, white clouds rippled, like furrows in the blue field of the sky. Suddenly a round white cloud to the right of this display became illuminated by a rainbow, which was not an arc as rainbows usually appear. The cloud became a glowing orb of rainbow hues – violet, indigo, red, orange, and gold, as if it were the aura surrounding the throne of Christ the King! (Revelation 4:3).

What made this even more astounding was that it had not rained for several days; there was no rain in the forecast; and the humidity was only about 50% -- much lower than normal at a Florida beach. It was clearly a rainbow, but like none I had ever seen before, spectacularly beautiful and occurring in highly improbable conditions! I was so thankful for and blessed by this reminder of God’s promise never again to destroy the earth by water (Genesis 9:13-17).

Sadly, many storms are still brewing as we approach the peak of what is forecast to be a busier than normal hurricane season. Our prayers are with all those affected by hurricanes or in their potential path. Yet, how reassuring to know that our Triune God is with us, no matter what storms we may face; that He speaks tenderly to us through His creation; and that we can depend on His presence and His promises! 

© 2023 Laurie Collett