I hate nights like this. Me and storms just plain don’t get along. I can appreciate their beauty and wonder, however, when they have to start calling Davis Nolan AND when they call Ron Howes in on a Sunday night, you know it’s gonna be a rough night. I begin to envision myself as being the subject of a Jim (Mr. Forearms) Cantore interview on “Storm Stories” on the Weather Channel. Yeah, yeah, I know the chances are slim and as Mr. Smiff is so fond of teasing me saying “A tornado is headed straight for Sista Smiff in Sumner County!!” I don’t have a basement to hide in and Mr. Smiff is headed back from Kennedy Center. Not that he could walk outside and pull a Jesus and tell it to stop.

Nights like this, I wish I had an organ so we could do what my dad’s family used to do during rough storms. His sister would hit the organ and play “God Will Take Care of You” over and over. Since I don’t have the old organ to rely on, I did do a quick search and found that very hymn, played on a piano here. It ain’t the same as Thelma Lady’s playing, but, it’ll do.

Be not dismayed what’er be tide
God will take care of you
Beneath His wings in love abide
God will take care of you

God will take care of you
Through everyday, o’er all the way
He will take care of you
God will take care of you

My faith is strong, in big stuff and little stuff, but, when it comes to storms, I’m a little like Peter, I guess. “Oh ye of little faith.”