She was 34 years old, and had made some poor decisions in her life. And because of those decisions, she was working for minimum wage, living with various roommates in a less than stellar apartment, driving an old beater and living paycheck to paycheck. She had little in the way of material possessions, but what she did have was a zest for life. She was the spark of the party with a smile that could light up any room. She was beautiful. She was generous. She was funny. And she was one of my best friends, right up until the day she died.

She was 34 years old.

He was in his mid-sixties.  His career as a businessman had led him to make some rather lucrative investments over the years, leaving him with little financial worry for his retirement. He had a luxurious home in a prestigious development, as well as an ocean-front cottage and a beautiful chalet that overlooked the Blue Ridge Mountains. He was very rich by the world’s standards, the envy of many who knew him. He had money to burn and could buy himself anything he could ever want.  Except for the one thing he desperately needed: a new lung.

It was through her death that he was given life. In the midst of unspeakable agony that night, her family had made the magnanimous decision to donate her organs. A few hours after receiving the call that changed their lives forever, five other families also received a life changing call.

It was almost a year later when the letter arrived.

We’re not even sure how it happened, as there are protocols and safeguards in place to prevent any direct contact between donor families and recipients, yet there it was. He had penned an epistle of thanks, the magnitude of which, he stated, was hard to convey. How do you adequately thank someone for the breath of life?  Yet he did, and his gratitude was as palpable as if he’d written in braille.

Her family responded, including a picture of her as he had requested. A few of months later, they met not with handshakes, but with tears and hearty embraces.  And then he began to hand them gifts. He had come with tokens of his appreciation for everyone in this family, this family that he now considered to be a part of his own. He had commissioned an artist to paint a portrait of her from the picture they had sent and presented them with two canvases—one for her parents, and one for her only sister. There were gold bracelets for each of her nieces, along with other treasures.

They continued to meet several times a year and he always arrived with gifts for all.  He invited them to be guests on his yacht. He offered to fly them to his mountain home for a vacation.  He gave them the keys to his beachfront cottage for the summer. The family thanked him profusely for his generosity each time, and they assured him the he didn’t need to go to such extravagance—that he was doing too much.

“Too much?” he asked. “You have given me life. I could never do enough to repay you.”

The more profound the gratitude, the more boundless our generosity.

Thanksgiving is defined as:

1. the act of giving thanks; grateful acknowledgment of benefits or favors, especially to God.
2. an expression of thanks, especially to God.
3. a public celebration in acknowledgment of divine favor or kindness.

We don’t need a lung transplant to understand that God has given us the breath of life. But sometimes we need a reminder.  In our day-to-day busyness of life, we can often forget the things that matter most, especially when life gets hard. But it is in the midst of those hard times that Paul reminds us to be grateful.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.  –Phil 4:6-7 (NKJV)

Is Paul saying that we are to thank God for the trials and hardships? No, he is saying that we need to be grateful despite our circumstances, because he knows that an attitude of gratitude changes our perspective. It moves our focus from the size of our circumstance to the magnitude of our God. How can we not be grateful when we consider that God will never leave us nor forsake us? That no weapon formed against us will prosper?  That we are fearfully and wonderfully made?  And that Christ died for our sins?

We are forgiven. That fact alone should have us on our knees every day. Not just one random Thursday in November. The woman we read about in Luke 7:36-50 understood this, and serves as an example for all of us.

She is known only as ‘”a sinful woman” and her life changing “call” came when she heard that Jesus was going to be dining at the home of a local man that night. Without invitation, she walked into the house emboldened by her desperate need, only a moment later to be humbled by his presence, dropping at his feet. Her tears fell unabashedly, washing the desert sand from his flesh, and she used her own hair to wipe them dry.  It is then that she took a bottle of perfume from her pocket. In a culture where women were forbidden to touch a man who was not her husband, she cradled the feet of Jesus, anointing him with not just a measured amount of the aromatic mixture, but breaking the bottle and pouring it all out for him. Anointing the feet represented servanthood, discipleship and love. She gave it all.

This scene took place in a room full of men who watched with disdain. When she walked in, they saw sin. When she touched his feet, they saw uncleanliness.  When her tears began to flow they saw drama, and when she emptied the expensive bottle, they saw only waste. But Jesus doesn’t look at the outward appearance, and so when she walked in, what he saw was her need. Her need to be free of her past. Her need to be unchained from her bondage to sin. Her need to be whole.

Knowing the men were judging her, Jesus tells them the story of two men who owed money to a lender, with one of the debts being ten times that of the other. The banker however, tells both men that their debts are forgiven—they owe nothing.  Jesus asked the scowling Pharisees which of those two men would love the banker more. “The one who was forgiven more,” Simon answered.

Exactly.

Our generosity will always be in direct proportion to our gratitude.

What are you most grateful for?  What is the one thing that you could never, ever repay? Add this to your prayers. Not once a year, but daily, as a constant reminder of the grace you have been shown.  And then thanksgiving will not be an annual tradition, but instead, a lifestyle of giving thanks.

A few weeks ago when the storm Harvey was approaching the states, I began to toy with the idea of God’s love being like a hurricane.  But then it hit and we watched for days the devastation and I thought, “How can I liken that to Jesus?”

But as Irma approached our city, the idea stayed with me and as God would have it, I was preparing several worship sets for some upcoming devos.  I came across two songs that spoke to me.  One was FIERCE by Jesus Culture: 

Like a tidal wave
Crashing over me
Rushing in to meet me here
Your love is fierce
Like a hurricane
That I can’t escape
Tearing through the atmosphere
Your love is fierce

And I also was led to the beautiful HOW HE LOVES by the David Crowder Band with this verse:

He is jealous for me, loves like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

So maybe I wasn’t the only one thinking along these lines.  Then I listened to SO WILL I by Hillsong United. Two lines stopped me in my tracks.

 I can see Your heart in everything You’ve made……If it all reveals Your nature, so will I.

Every created thing was created by God. And so it struck me that all of nature reveals God’s nature—including the wind and the waves.  I sat down at my computer, and this is what he showed me…

There’s been an awful lot of talk about hurricanes in the past few weeks. We knew it was coming, but we were unsure of the exact day and time it would hit. It seems the only real question was, “Where will you be when it passes by?”

This most recent storm was unprecedented—more forceful, more awesome than anything this world has seen. There isn’t even a number on our scale that could adequately convey power of this storm. We all watched as it approached.  How many hours did we spend studying the dot, after dot, after dot that was placed to mark its track?

We paid attention because we knew that once this storm passed, the landscape would never be the same.  The people who encountered it would never be the same. You can’t experience that kind of force and remain unchanged because when heaven invades earth, there is a change in the atmosphere.

This storm was so big, that there was not a single resident of the state that was not affected when it came through. Everyone was touched—some in the most outer bands only got a little wind, others felt a greater impact. What determined how much of the power you felt, was how close your home was to the center. The closer you were, the deeper the impact.

A lot of people avoided the storm. They had no desire to experience it, so they grabbed all that they consider valuable and turned from it. That’s understandable, because it can be uncomfortable to have debris stirred up and buildings come down.

So they piled onto the interstates and there was a steady flow headed in one direction.  The need was so great that in some places, they reversed the direction of the southbound lanes.  A path that had been created to flow one way began to move in the other direction at the behest of the people.

But there were a select few who were set apart from the crowd, and did not follow the people. The storm chasers and reporters knew that in order to experience the full impact of the storm, they needed to intentionally position themselves at the center of the storm. And so when it seemed that the whole world was going in one direction, they went in the opposite. They had a personal experience with a great force, and then they reported it to anyone who would listen.

And as I began to ponder on the storm and all of its effects, I realized that the power of Jesus’ love is a lot like a hurricane.  When Jesus comes on the scene, He changes the atmosphere.  Debris gets stirred up.  And walls come down.

If we read through the gospels, we can track Jesus’ movements much like that of the recent storm.  Just a short read of a few chapters in Mark, and you can place dot after dot mapping out Jesus’ trek.

Mark 5:1 places Jesus on the edge of a lake, and then he crosses over to the other side. In verse 21, he comes back to this side of the lake.  From there,he moved along to his home town, and then Mark 6:6 says that he went “from village to village.”  Dot. Dot. Dot.

And without the benefit of social media, Doppler radar, or a single TV news report, people were tracking Jesus. They knew where He was headed. They heard he was coming, and they prepared. They purposely positioned themselves in front of him in order to get the full impact of his passing by.

Jairus literally fell in front Jesus, at his feet. “Come heal my daughter,” he pleaded.

And there were so many others.

The short guys climbed trees.

The blind guys yelled.

The paralyzed ones were lowered through a roof.

Then there was the woman with the issue of blood. Her condition made her unclean and she was ostracized, shunned by her community. She lived in the outer bands of society, but she knew that she needed to be in the center of Jesus’ path to reap the full benefit of an encounter with him. Despite being buffeted by the winds of rejection, she pushed her way through the crowd just so she could touch the hem of his robe. And immediately, the landscape of her life changed. The Storm stopped in his tracks, looked her right in the eye, and called her daughter. The only place in scripture where he does that.

The whole nation has been talking about Irma. And the entire region was talking about Jesus.

Mark 6:53 says that “people recognized Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was.”

These were the Jim Cantores of biblical times, positioning themselves for full impact.

“And wherever he went—into villages, towns or countryside—they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched it were healed.

The blind can see

The deaf can hear.

Limps are strengthened.

Demons are cast.

Bent is made straight.

Dirty is made clean.

When we center our lives around Jesus, he is our center. And you know what you find at the center of the hurricane?  Peace.  The very center—the eye—is the most calm, the most serene, clear and bright place you can possibly imagine. Despite the chaos of hurricane force winds all around, there is perfect peace amidst the storm when we are centered on Jesus.

The most life altering aspect of a powerful hurricane is the storm surge. The ocean is driven by the winds and pushed onto the land, clearing anything in its path. The water is relentless, refusing to be stopped and filling in every roadway, alley and ditch. Debris is pushed aside. Much the same way, God’s love covers all the dry places. It seeps into every opening, filling cracks and crevices that you didn’t even know existed. God’s love is relentless, and nothing can hinder its path.

You know another fascinating fact about hurricanes?  They are only on earth for a short time, and when that time is up they dissipate into the atmosphere. But after the storm is gone, there are still pockets of incredible power that spin up tornadoes, energized by the same force as the storm.  They follow along its path, continuing rustle up debris and tear down walls. And you know, the tornadoes are never named—they are simply considered an extension of the storm, recognized only for the mark they leave behind.

Just before he ascended into heaven, Jesus spoke with his apostles. Listen to what He says in Mark 16:15 (Message):

 “Go into the world. Go everywhere and announce the Message of God’s good news to one and all. Whoever believes and is baptized is saved; whoever refuses to believe is damned.

 “These are some of the signs that will accompany believers: They will throw out demons in my name, they will speak in new tongues, they will take snakes in their hands, they will drink poison and not be hurt, they will lay hands on the sick and make them well.”

Friends, we are the unnamed tornadoes. We were created by and are called to follow the the path of Jesus, touching down wherever the Holy Spirit directs. We clear out debris, and we bring down walls. We do it not for our glory, but as a reflection of his awesome love, power and grace. We have the power of the Storm residing within us, the power to change the landscape of the lives around us.

If the wind goes where you send it, so will I.