~After the spinning howling flying churning—what remains?
Ground up and spit out, trees, houses and debris lay silent.
I know. I’ve been there after the tornado as an insurance adjuster, surveying damage, writing reports and recommending repairs. That’s what I do. Put a price tag on what it’ll cost to fix what’s broke.
But there’s more.
Beyond what my camera can see. Deeper than what my tape can measure. Over what the policy provides, is a broken vessel that no amount of money can buy.
Just like that. Lives change forever. End.
How does one put a price tag on that? What do you do? What do you say? How can we touch that which is beyond our reach?
I hear the news. It’s over, they report. Yesterday, they say.
But it’s not over. It’s still today.
The tornado’s been swallowed.
Silence roars within and
Stillness whips the
The debris is removed.
Structures are rebuilt.
I read reports and fill out forms. But there’s more. I see it in their eyes. I hear it in their voice.
Who do I call to heal my broken heart?
Who’ll help me clean up the debris of my shattered life?
My house can be rebuilt—but what about my home?
I feel small. Like what I do matters little, compared to the enormity of what’s really been lost.
But there’s more. I remember a story about a man.
“Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, dreadfully tormented.”
And Jesus said to him, “I will come and heal him.”
The centurion answered and said, “Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But only speak a word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, having soldiers under me. And I say to this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”
When Jesus heard it, He marveled, and said… “Go your way; and as you have believed, so let it be done for you.” And his servant was healed that same hour.
The man needed something and simply applied what he’d learned from his job—and met with God. He went to The One with authority and made a recommendation about what needed to be done. And it was. Not by power not by might but by going to the One who could.
I can do that. You can do that.
I look at damage and recommend payment from carrier to insured. That’s my job. It’s what I do—but I can do more. I can look deep, and see the damage money can’t fix. I can make recommendations to The Carrier of carriers.
I know The One with no policy limits. He’s in charge of all restoration and knows how to fix every broken vessel; because He too, was broken, bruised and healed.
Sure, it may seem small, a quiet voice in the midst of a whirlwind. But I remember hearing another story about a Still Small Voice that spoke worlds into existence. And He still speaks, and He still hears and He will make all the difference. Ask.