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What Do We Really Believe?

Last month, when we had that giant storm come through and cause all sorts of ruckus, I was awoken in the middle of the night by my wife saying, ‘There’s a tornado warning. I have all the kids downstairs. You should come downstairs.’ 

Jen and I have been married for over 17 years. We’ve had discussions on what to do in a storm. Despite my tendency to scoff and doubt weathermen, I went downstairs and promptly fell asleep on a couch next to one of the kids. Jen stayed up for a few more hours on high alert.

After about an hour of the roof not falling in around us, I went back to bed, seeking a spot where a child's leg would not be lodged in my back.

I think we discovered our differences in storm situations back when we were engaged. She was spending some time in Florida one summer, when the people on TV started telling us to evacuate to nearby schools because of impending hurricane-like weather. Jen looked to me and asked what we needed to pack and if we had an emergency bag to take along. I just laughed while my dad changed the channel to find something else to watch on TV.

We laugh about it now (well, I laugh about it now) but it’s a perfect example of how our beliefs should dictate our actions. My family didn’t take action that day in Florida because we’d never before been hit. (I know you can say there is always a first time, but that’s for another sermon.) Our actions reflected our beliefs.

We might want to ask ourselves, if all of our actions were written down, what someone reading our story would assume we believe. What do we really believe?
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