I feel like a tree caught in a storm, swaying every which way and ready to snap. Yet, a peace descends me as I stand firm, bold, strong and only my extremities flail about. I rattle in the breeze–the breeze of your might, of your power, of your glory. I shake and I rattle and I sway every which way, yet I’m strong. And I’m steady. You pass through me again and again and again and yet again and every time I’m shaken, but not moved. For I am strong. I am bold. I am courageous and my roots run deep.

Oh Lord, what is this storm? When will you reveal your might? How strong is strong? Will I bend or will I break? Will it be both? Will I flail about as you pass through or will I dance in your glory, softly swaying about? Oh Lord, what is it you’re trying to teach me? What is it you want me to know?
