My son Nathan introduced me to this song, Lullaby for a Stormy Night, a few weeks ago. It’s so beautiful. I loved it immediately, and I’ve listened to it multiple times since then. These lyrics made me think of a couple of things.

Little child, be not afraid,
Though thunder explodes and lightning flash,
Illuminates your tear-stained face,
I am here tonight.

And someday you’ll know,
That nature is so,
The same rain that draws you near me,

Falls on rivers and land,
And forests and sand,
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning.

My first mental image, while listening to this song, was that of our little Lilyan when she first came home to us. She was so tiny, but also so spunky! However, thunderstorms reduced her to an absolutely terrified, whimpering (sometimes screaming), trembling bundle of baby girl.

I had never seen anyone as terrified of storms as she was. It broke my heart to see her like that, and even just the prediction of a storm would cause me to feel panic on her behalf. 

She has outgrown this fear now, but I sure wish I’d known of this song back then. I’m no singer (understatement), but I would’ve held her and sung it to her.

The other thing it made me think of is God’s ways. Even though it isn’t a Christian song, and even though it doesn’t even mention God.

Oh man! Sometimes his ways seem so dark and scary and bullying and misunderstood. The rain that falls in the midst of the thundering, flashing, panic-inducing storms of life, causing me to skitter like a terror-stricken rabbit into his arms, is the same rain that makes our walk with him beautiful. And this reminder pricked my conscience.

The same rain that draws you near me,
Falls on rivers and land,
And forests and sand,
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning.

Just yesterday morning, I was so far from his arms. I was consumed with sadness and fear; I was pouting and accusing this Father of mine of being mean. Of tricking me — again — by making me think he was about to answer a prayer a certain way, and then reneging on his promises to care for our family.

This temper of mine. It causes me, in times of fear or in the midst of feeling I’ve been betrayed, to behave in such childish ways. Lashing out at those I love, saying things I don’t even mean, and turning my back on my all-knowing Creator who loves me more than I can ever understand while I’m trapped in this stubborn, foot-stomping, human body that sometimes desires comfort and ease and my own way more than knowing this God in deeper and truer ways.

He loves me so much that he gave his life to save me. He died to make it possible for me to run into those arms when I’m scared to death. Will I ever grow up?

Oh, God. Help me to embrace the thunder and lightening along with the life-giving water that you send to make beautiful our path in this world. Grow in me a desire to run to you, instead of away from you, and to nestle in your arms. I know in my heart that this is the only safe place to be during the storm.