CALMING THE STORM
Proverbs 31 Woman
By Sharon Jaynes
Sharon@sharonjaynes.com
Copyright 2008

 

A storm was brewing somewhere off in the distance. I could
smell the scent of the summer rain mingling with the dry
earth. Trees were beginning to wave their arms and fingers in
warning as the breeze rustled through the leaves. Quickly, I
closed my book and ran into the house.

 

"Bye Steve," I called out as I ran through the kitchen,
grabbing my pocketbook and car keys. "I've put off going to
the grocery store all day and now a storm's coming. I need a
few items for Sunday lunch tomorrow and I'm going to try to
beat the rain." I said all of this in one breath as I dashed
past Steve in a whirlwind.

 

"Bye," Steve called after me. "Be careful and slow down!"

 

Driving down Monroe Road, I was glad the grocery store was
only a few miles away. Just ahead loomed a dark nimbus cloud
flashing heat lightening in the summer sky. Speedily, I
whipped into the parking lot, dashed through the automatic
doors, grabbed my three items, and zipped through the express
lane. I was quick, but not quick enough. I had lost my race
with the storm. Torrential rains poured from the sky in
sideways sheets, blocking the parking lot from view. Other
last minute shoppers waited under the shelter for the storm to
pass, or at least ease up a bit. Conceding, I went back into
the store to wait this one out. It was then I heard a baby
crying - not an uncommon sound in a grocery store. But there
was something about the cry that stirred my heart.

 

The cry drew my attention to a weary mother with groceries
piled high in her shopping cart, standing in the checkout
line. Two carefree little girls, about seven years old, stood
on one side of her, singing, giggling and clapping their
playful hands together. I imagined they were friends having a
sleepover and my mind raced back to many such carefree
Saturday nights years ago.

 

In stark contrast to the playful duo, on the other side of the
mother stood a crying little sister. Her sad eyes were
bloodshot, her face was contorted with sadness, and her dress
was moist from tears that dripped from her chin. It was then
that I realized that while a storm was raging outside the
building, there was a greater storm brewing within its walls.

 

There was something about the toddler's cry that pulled at my
heartstrings. Was she tired? Was she hungry? I couldn't tell
at first, but something or Someone told me to watch closely
and I would soon find out.

 

The little girl, not yet two, held up her arms to her mommy,
begging to be picked up, but her mother, angry and consumed in
her own frustrations, refused.

 

With that, her crying grew louder. She then toddled around her
mother and walked behind the checkout counter. Still wailing,
she reached up her pleading arms to the cashier. The stranger,
obviously uncomfortable, kept her eyes on the task at hand and
acted as if the child were not there at all. She never made
eye contact or acknowledged the urchin at her side.

 

The older sister, thinking the scene rather humorous, pulled
her sibling out from behind the counter.

 

"Tasha, come out from there. You don't even know that lady,"
she scolded. Still crying, little Tasha turned and noticed I
was watching. We locked eyes, which to her seemed like an
invitation. It was. Tasha walked over to me, wrapped her
precious tiny arm around my knees and rested her wet cheek
against my leg. As I patted her back, she put her thumb in her
mouth and quieted her heart. I then understood the source of
the cry. It was hunger after all. Hunger for love.

 

After a minute or two, Tasha pulled back, looked up at me, and
held up her arms. Her mother, as well as everyone else held
captive by the storm, was watching.

 

"May I hold her?" I asked the mom. She nodded.

 

I picked up little Tasha. She nestled her head against my
chest and continued to quietly suck her thumb as I swayed
gently back and forth. Her hunger was satisfied, if only for a
moment, as I fed her with my touch.

 

Tasha's sister and her friend came bouncing over, curious
about this lady who held her sister.

 

"I like your dress," one said.

 

"And I like your shoes," said the other.

 

"I like your green velour shirt," I countered.

 

"I'd like to go home with you," the first one whispered.

 

I just smiled, but my heart wept. Perhaps there was a storm
brewing in the sister's heart as well.

 

All too soon, the storm cloud passed and the pelting rain
slowed to a drizzle. Reluctantly, I handed the toddler back to
her mother, who most likely was hungry for love as well.

 

After bidding the giggling duo farewell, I dashed to my car. I
waved goodbye as they watched me drive away - a smile on my
face and tears trickling down my cheeks.

 

Jesus still calms the storms. Whether it is in the grocery
store, in the neighborhood, or even in our own families, Jesus
uses our hands to do the loving, our words to do the caring,
and our arms to sooth a weary soul.

 

*****

 

Sharon Jaynes is the former vice president of Proverbs 31
Ministries and a co-founder of Girlfriends in God
(www.girlfriendsingod.com). Read more of her inspiring words
there, at www.proverbs31.org or at her personal website,
www.sharonjaynes.com