It was August, 1979, the middle of hurricane season, and Hurricane David was sweeping its way through the Lesser Antilles. I sat inside my dormitory room in Charleston, South Carolina, frantically flipping the pages of my calculus book, unaware that a storm was barreling my way. A set of calculus problems, which was due at the end of the week, was swirling in my brain. My only source of my depression was a troubling test score.

The category-five hurricane with sustained winds of one hundred seventy-five miles per hour unleashed its fury on the Dominican Republic, stripping its economy and destroying homes for three-fourths of its population. Three days later, it brushed the coast of Florida. Only then did I withdraw my head from my studies and listen as weather forecasters warned residents along the Georgia and South Carolina coasts to prepare for David’s impending landfall.  I was raised in Ohio. While I knew about tornadoes and blizzards and another loss for the Cincinnati Bengals, I was clueless about hurricanes.

The girls in my dorm came to my rescue. “You’re coming with us,” announced Sarah Beth.

I envisioned that we would find refuge at Tara …all Southerners own plantations, right? We would feast on shrimp-and-grits and key lime pie while remnants of the hurricane flirted with the Spanish moss dangling outside Sarah Beth’s parlor window. To me, it sounded like a perfect two-day respite from the calculus problems, which I had come to loathe.

I slapped my knees and enthusiastically asked, “What’s the plan?”

Sarah Beth answered, “We’re going to load into my Volkswagen and drive until we run out of gas.”

Immediately, my vision of key lime pie slipped right off the silver dessert spoon. I envisioned four college students, stranded on the highway in a lime-green VW, which was being pummeled by wind gusts over two hundred miles per hour. This wasn’t a plan; this was CHAOS.


Are there storms taking shape on your grandchildren’s horizons, or are they already caught in a torrential downpour? If so, what is the reality of their storms?

  • Are they one step behind the other students in their class?
  • Are they pushed to excel?
  • Are they having trouble making friends?
  • Are they addicted to video games?
  • Is their self-esteem based on social media?
  • Are they battling anorexia, juvenile diabetes or cancer?
  • Are they navigating two homes, two schedules and two set of rules, all in the wake of divorce?
  • Are they straying away from the Christian faith?

It’s time for us to develop a plan. After all, we are in a spiritual battle for the hearts, minds and souls of our children, grandchildren and all future generations. “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). The enemy isn’t playing games. The personal storms raging against us and our families are a result of his cunning and vicious handiwork.

It’s time we wield the strongest weapon in our arsenal; it’s time we fold our hands in prayer.


Dearest LORD Jesus,

You know the reality of our grandchildren’s storms, even before we mention them by name. You are mighty to save; therefore, we call on your name, boldly, and confidently asking you to protect our grandchildren from the enemy’s assaults and to rebuke the storms, which he has placed in their paths. The victory is yours, Lord Jesus, for you have overcome the world.


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