Truth comes in the storm; enlightenment comes after
The storms of life can break you open — but what you do next defines who you become.
Sometimes, I don’t know what to write.
I put pen to paper, and my mind goes blank.
I can feel that there’s something brewing — something wanting to come out, something that needs to be said.
But I can’t quite grab a hold of it yet.
Usually when I feel this way, it’s a sign that something really big is about to come out. It’s almost like when animals know a dangerous storm is coming before it even starts. My soul knows that once this door opens… there’s no turning back.
And there’s always this moment beforehand, where I hesitate. Where I’m not sure if I want the door to open, or not. It’s in those moments that I get hit with writer’s block, almost as if the not writing can somehow prevent the truth from ever coming out.
But truth is truth. It doesn’t care if you’re ready for it or not, sometimes. It just appears, and expects you to face it.
And, like a wild animal caught in a storm, when I can sense a truth bomb about to go off, I start to panic. I start to lose control. I get frantic and frenzied. My heart closes off, and my mind goes on high alert to try and prepare for whatever’s about to happen.
My lip starts to shake, and my breathing becomes rapid and shallow.
I start withdrawing — or outright pushing people away — in order to protect my friends and family from the storm, and keep them free from any fallout.
I can feel myself becoming worried, anxious, and afraid. I know I’m no longer rational, and I don’t know how to stop.
A breakthrough is coming.
I’m right on the edge. I can almost see what’s about to hit me — and I can just barely catch a glimpse of how this challenge I’m about to take on is going to change me, hopefully for the better but I’m not always sure.
I can almost see the silver lining.
But, I am afraid. I know there will be great pain before the breakthrough. I know I’ll be required to face things I’ve purposely avoided, things I’ve buried, things I’ve forgotten are even there.
I’ll probably cry, a lot. And I’ll probably send my closest friends dozens, if not hundreds, of irrational, emotionally charged texts, detailing every moment of the storm like a tornado hunter who’s describing all the destruction and devastation as it occurs.
I know the storm is coming. I know it has to come. I’ve postponed it for as long as I can, and now it’s time to step into it and let it howl and wail all around me, and show me the things I need to learn so I can endure it all, and so I can take some of its power away, and be ready to rebuild, after it’s gone.
Storms always come. But when you’ve lived long enough, you learn that storms also always go. No storm lasts forever.
The impact — the devastation — that might leave a permanent mark, sometimes. And some storms will upend you, destroy your foundation, and force you to move halfway across the country, abandon everything you once knew, and start your life over in new and unfamiliar surroundings.
One day, maybe, you’ll encounter that once-in-a-thousand-years storm, that you don’t ever recover from, that keeps your descendants trapped in your trauma, for generations beyond you.
You may encounter a storm some day so severe, it maims you, and takes away your ability to live a normal life, to keep growing, or to recover or rebuild.
Sometimes, you might get lost in the center of a storm. You might not even realize the storm is trying to blow over, because you’re so obsessed with it, you keep moving yourself wherever the storm blows, making it impossible for you to ever break free.
If that’s you right now, I want you to know I’ve been there before, and no matter what anyone tells you, getting stuck in the storms of life is never your fault.
You haven’t done anything to “deserve” the storm you’re in. Life is not out to get you. God is not trying to punish you for not being good enough. It’s just something that happens, sometimes — to all of us.
You will get stuck, but with sufficient effort, you can always find a way to get unstuck.
And most storms, you will survive without any lasting damage… and life will go on as before (more or less).
But rain falls in everybody’s life. None of us is immune to life’s challenges. Some of us will experience earthquakes; others, hurricanes. Some will face tornadoes. Some, flooding.
Some will have to live through season after season of drought, or extreme heat, or sudden, drastic climate change that makes their home almost seem uninhabitable for a time. Some will lose power in the dead of winter, and face the real risk of hypothermia.
We all have different storms, but we all have storms in our lives.
We can’t get away from them.
But we can recognize, and maybe even learn to prepare for, some common elements among all storms:
They make us afraid. They make us irrational. They make some people buy a year’s supply of bottled water and toilet paper, while other people grab one single “go bag” and flee the city, while others still decide to shelter in place, and hope that the storm will pass quickly… and others see every storm as an opportunity to loot, and pillage, and plunder.
Some storms have the power to upheave our lives, destroy our homes, damage our relationships, deplete our life savings, and leave us alone, and destitute, with nowhere to go and no way out.
All storms have the potential to disrupt our lives.
The strongest of storms, we may not ever come back from. I mean, sometimes it’s just not possible to survive.
Storms are dangerous, and sometimes, deadly. Sometimes even when we’re prepared for the storm, it can still overwhelm us and incapacitate us.
Sometimes I still spend days in bed, lying on my side, staring at an empty wall, sobbing uncontrollably, because I don’t know how else to get everything out.
Sometimes, I weep when I pray, or when I’m journaling… or even when I’m watching a dumb feel-good movie on Netflix.
I think if lying in bed for two days unable to stop myself from crying is my hurricane… then these short outbursts when I’m praying, or writing, or watching tv (or sometimes, when I’m talking to a friend)…
These short outbursts are more like thunder or hail storms: they strike without warning, they’re loud and intense, they shake me up and make me want to run for cover — but in the end they actually haven’t hurt anything; they just let me restore balance in my life. And besides, these short outbursts are always over just as quickly as they begin.
The small storms get easier to navigate as we get older… as we learn that they really don’t do any damage, and in fact they’re actually good for our environment. The small storms help us release pain, frustration, and other emotions that maybe have built up just over a few weeks or months or something, that aren’t too heavy but still need to be released.
The short outbursts make it easy to release those lesser emotions.
But the big stuff, that we’ve let pile up over the course of years, or decades, or maybe things we’ve never dealt with at all in 40 or 50 years? That’s natural disaster territory, right there. That’s when you need the kind of hurricane that can just wash everything away and leave you with a blank canvas and a brand new start.
Every storm hurts, though. Even the small ones.
Every one is scary, and powerful, and intense.
Every one is difficult to navigate.
But as I survive each storm, I’m learning that I can endure much more than I previously imagined. I’m not immune to the storms — no one is. But as I successfully weather one after another, I’m learning that I can hold onto my goals and dreams, even as the storm is raging, and I can build a life, in spite of it all, that brings me purpose, meaning, and direction.
I don’t have to sacrifice my values just because I’m in the middle of an earthquake. I don’t have to throw out my plans, and my goals and dreams, just about my home is being flooded and I’m standing in five-foot waters.
And I don’t have to “conquer” every storm that comes my way, in order to prove my bravery, my strength, or my resilience. It’s okay to let a storm devastate me, when that’s what needs to happen.
I don’t have to come out on top, every single time.
I just have to hold onto my own integrity long enough for the storm to pass, and for me to be back in a position to rebuild, and to keep moving forward.
It’s not a question of, “Do you survive the storms life throws at you?”
It’s, “How do you survive,” that counts.
How to survive the storm without losing yourself
This isn’t a guide for fixing your feelings or bypassing your pain. It’s for those moments when everything feels loud, raw, and overwhelming — when you know something big is moving through you, but you’re not sure how to hold it. This toolkit is here to help you stay grounded, stay honest, and stay you — even in the middle of the storm.
1. Name the weather pattern
What kind of storm is this, really?
Is it grief? Fear? Anger? Identity loss? Shame?
Naming the dominant emotion doesn’t solve it — but it grounds it.
It tells your nervous system: I see what’s happening. I’m not lost.
2. Set an internal anchor
Choose one value to hold onto, no matter what gets shaken.
It could be honesty. Kindness. Faith. Patience.
Repeat it like a mantra:
“Even in this storm, I will stay [anchored value].”
3. Create a storm circle
Who are the 1–3 people you trust to hold space for you when you’re unraveling?
Let them know: “I might not need advice — I just need to not be alone in this.”
Build that circle before the storm hits, if you can.
And if you don’t have anyone? Write letters to your future self.
You are still worth staying connected to.
4. Don’t rush the forecast
Stop looking for the silver lining too early.
Not every storm has a neat ending.
Stay present with what is — and let the meaning come later.
Some truths take time to reveal themselves.
5. Prepare to rebuild — gently
After the winds die down, don’t expect yourself to bounce back immediately.
Ask: What do I want to carry forward? What can I let go of now?
The storm isn’t the end.
It’s the clearing before something new can grow.
Self-reflection: when the storm finds you
You don’t have to make sense of the storm while it’s still raging — but when you feel safe enough to reflect, these questions can help you gently process what’s happening, and what it might be asking of you.
1. What kind of storm am I in right now — and what do I think triggered it?
(Is it emotional, spiritual, relational, physical? Is it sudden, or long-building?)
Write your answer.
2. What parts of me are trying to shut down, escape, or hide?
(How do I typically protect myself in moments like this? Is that protection still serving me?)
Write your answer.
3. What’s one value I want to hold onto through this?
(Even if everything else shakes loose, who do I still want to be?)
Write your answer.
4. What do I need most right now — and how can I ask for it (even if just from myself)?
(Rest? Silence? Reassurance? Witnessing? Comfort?)
Write your answer.
🌱 Reflective Thought:
What might this storm be clearing space for in your life?
(Sometimes storms don’t just destroy — they reveal what’s ready to be rebuilt.)
Final Thought
Not every storm is meant to be conquered. Some are meant to be endured — felt all the way through, without rushing to the lesson or the light.
Because sometimes, it’s not the storm that changes you. It’s who you choose to be in the middle of it.
You don’t have to be brave all the time. You don’t have to be wise or strong or unshakable.
You just have to stay honest. Stay anchored. Stay you — even when everything else is being torn apart.
If you’re in the storm right now, I won’t tell you it’s all going to be okay.
I don’t know what you’ll lose. I don’t know what will be asked of you.
But I do know this:
You are not the storm. You are the one walking through it. And every step you take is a declaration that you’re still here, still trying, still reaching for something more.
The truth may come in the storm. But enlightenment doesn’t come until after.
And when it does… it finds the ones who refused to give up.
Don’t you dare give up. You stay in the fight, and you hold on with whatever you’ve got, to get you safely through every storm. I guarantee, you’ll be glad you did.