Monday, May 30, 2011

Priesthood Authority in Hurricane Isabel

“Work today? Honey, there is a hurricane on the way, the entire government in the DC area has been closed, school is canceled, and you have to work?”

“Yes, I know all of that, and yes I need to go to work today. More than likely, things will shut down around lunch and I will be home before anything major comes our way.”

My wife wasn’t pleased in the least bit with my departure. For the past few days, the states along the mid-atlantic coast line had been bracing for the arrival of Hurricane Isabel.

According to information posted by NOAA, “Hurricane Isabel was the costliest and deadliest hurricane in the 2003 Atlantic hurricane season. The ninth named storm, fifth hurricane, and second major hurricane of the season, Isabel formed from a tropical wave on September 6 in the tropical Atlantic Ocean. It moved northwestward, and within an environment of light wind shear and warm waters it steadily strengthened to reach peak winds of 165 mph (265 km/h) on September 11. 
“In North Carolina, the storm surge from Isabel washed out a portion of Hatteras Island to form what was unofficially known as Isabel Inlet. Damage was greatest along the Outer Banks, where thousands of homes were damaged or even destroyed. The worst of the effects of Isabel occurred in Virginia, especially in the Hampton Roads area and along the shores of rivers as far west and north as Richmond and Washington, DC. Virginia reported the most deaths and damage from the hurricane. About 64% of the damage and 68% of the deaths occurred in North Carolina and Virginia. Electric service was disrupted in areas of Virginia for several days, some more rural areas were without electricity for weeks, and local flooding caused thousands of dollars in damage.
"Moderate to severe damage extended up the Atlantic coastline and as far inland as West Virginia. Roughly six million people were left without electric service in the eastern United States from the strong winds of Isabel. Rainfall from the storm extended from South Carolina to Maine, and westward to Michigan. Throughout the path of Isabel, damage totaled about $3.6 billion (2003 USD, $4.3 billion 2011 USD). 16 deaths in seven U.S. states were directly related to the hurricane, with 35 deaths in six states and one Canadian province indirectly related to the hurricane.”

The drive from home to the Virgina worksite was quiet. Normally, rush hour caused this drive to last for nearly 90 minutes. Today, as seemingly the only person to venture out for work, the drive took less than half of that time.

At work, we monitored television and radio reports that tracked Isabel’s progress. Her projected path drew a line right over us. As expected, everyone packed up at lunch and headed home.

The morning drive felt lonely, the afternoon drive was eerie. Though it was not yet 200 in the afternoon, the black sky caused night to fall upon us early. The wind howled fiercely and pushed at my truck unceasingly. The constant gusts and noise felt like a semi-truck driving 100 miles per hour passed by the window several times a minute. The windshield wipers did little against the wind driven rain and intermittent hail. White knuckled and stiff shouldered, I hunched in the cab (as though hunching would have helped) and slowly made my way home.

If I were a cat, the drive that afternoon would have cost at least 6 lives.

When I parked and stepped out of my truck, I had to use both arms to close the truck’s door against the power of the rainy wind. In 30 running strides between the parking space and the front door, every part of my attire was soaked. I exhaled a blessed sigh while stepping across the threshold and bolting the closed door behind me.

Because I felt so relieved to be home, I expected my whole family to be gathered near the front door to celebrate my safe arrival; however, I stood there alone, drenched. A minute or two passed and I began to wonder where everyone was. Since my wife and two sons were deaf, standing on the landing and calling out for them would have done little good.

We lived in a typical east coast townhome. From the front door, a person had a choice to either go up or down. Since most of the living space was up, there I went. I searched the living room, kitchen, bathrooms and bedrooms in vain. The only space left to search was an office and bathroom below the front door.

When entering the bathroom, the object in the tub grabbed my attention immediately. Before touching anything, I knew that my wife, two sons and a new born baby girl huddled under the military grade grey wool blanket. Pulling the blanket aside and seeing the panic on all their faces pulled at my emotions. I asked my wife to come from the tub and told her that everything would be all right. She shrugged off my offer and went back to huddling with her children in the tub.

I left them there and went up to our bedroom to change into dry clothes. While changing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how terrified my family felt. Inwardly I wondered what I could do.

“Pray.”

The quiet yet encompassing impression left no doubt, though I felt unsure.

“Pray,” came the impression again. With it, a memory flooded my mind.

The previous summer, I had an evening appointment at Gallaudet University. After finishing, I drove home through a stormy downpour. Five minutes into the drive, my windshield wipers stopped working and left me blinded by watery sheets lining my windshield. I pulled over to wait for the rain to stop. It wouldn’t. A thought came to mind that I could pray for a safe drive home, so I did. Once my prayer ended and I opened my eyes, the rain stopped. Feeling fortunate, I drove home. As soon as I stopped and put my truck into its parked gear, the downpour fell again.

Alone in my bedroom, I knelt and began to pray. Caught up in grief over the panic of my family, I asked what could be done to comfort them.

“Rebuke the storm and all will be well.”

With a start, I wondered if my mind was making things up, yet the impression grew stronger and stronger until it felt nearly audible.

I rose from my knees and went to do as directed.

After thinking about how and where I would do it, I went into the yard behind our townhome. Looking to the left and to the right, seeing that I was alone, I rose my right arm to the square and rebuked the storm with the authority of the Priesthood and in the Name of our Savior.

When I put my arm down, the rain still fell and the wind blew as hard as it did before. However, when entering the house, I saw that my family had somehow felt comfortable enough to leave their tubbed shelter and spend the evening with me.

Later in the evening, the black sky cleared and everything fell silent. We thought the storm had died and that we had made it through all right. We and several other families wandered outside and were quickly ushered back indoors with a curt warning: the quiet was the eyes of the storm. Next would come the other half, which was dangerous, because the wind and rain would blow in the exact opposite direction that it had been. This is the part of the storm where bent trees would snap opposite to how the previous wind left them hanging. Before we knew it, the quiet roared into a rainy mess.

Inside the house, we waited and hoped for the best. After growing tired, we all went to bed for the night—rocked to sleep by the hum of a 100 mile per hour wind.

As the alarm rang in the morning, my first conscious thought was that we had made it through the night without losing any power—elsewise, the alarm would not have rang. I rose, turned on the television news and watched storm reports. All of the news casts talked of power outages from North Carolina north through Washington DC into Maryland and Delaware. I thought the report strange, because as far as I could tell, we had made it through the night unscathed.

I went outside to take a look and was floored. Though our building of townhomes (six of us altogether) had power, none of the buildings around us had any. Neither did any other place in our city or our county. In fact, all of the surrounding counties and states—as mentioned by the newscast, had lost all power.

Our building and parking space had no damage either. Fallen tree limbs, blown garbage and other wind damage could be seen all over. Some places even had broken glass. We, however, had been completely untouched.

Amazing!

It took days and sometimes weeks before power was restored and storm damage was repaired. Many people suffered from lack of clean or hot water, food, clean clothes, etc. We helped where we could and shared as much electricity with others as we dared. Through it all, though, I never could get over the awe I felt.

Doctrine and Covenants section 90 says to pray always and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good—this and other experiences I have had are my personal evidence that there is a God in heaven and He watches out for those who call upon him.

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