A prayer for Cordova
by Jennifer Cohron
May 08, 2011 | 3272 views | 0 0 comments | 20 20 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Jennifer Cohron
Jennifer Cohron
God, I know that you’re getting a lot of requests from this part of the world right now.

Only you could comprehend them all and give each one the special attention that it deserves.

Mine is not as desperate as some.

My family is not homeless. Our house, which was only a half mile from the tornado’s path of destruction, does not have a scratch on it.

I have not lost any loved ones.

My greatest fear the day of the tornado was that my son would not survive. I was helpless to save him. All I could do was pray for a bubble of protection to surround my family as we huddled in the hallway of my parents’ house.

You graciously granted it, and we were spared.

Today, all of our basic needs are met. We have hot food, clean clothes and our own beds to sleep in.

I am more thankful now than ever for all of the blessings that you have always given but I have often taken for granted.

I pray that you will meet the needs of the thousands of others who are in a much more difficult situation that I am.

And yet I still find myself reaching out to you.

I have questions about the future, and I don’t know the answers. That scares me.

Zac is without a job right now. It’s more than the loss of his income that bothers me.

You and I both know how much he loved working at Piggly Wiggly.

How many times did he come home and tell me stories about his customers? He usually didn’t know their names, but he could describe what they looked like, what kind of car they drove and when they did their shopping.

In the first days after the storm, he hugged every Piggly Wiggly customer we ran into because he was so relieved to see them alive.

As you know, he lost one of his customers in the tornado. He says that she was a sweet lady who didn’t have much money but would still tip him a quarter if she could.

I hope she woke up in your arms on Wednesday.

His boss and co-workers are like a second family to him. Thankfully, none of them were at the store when the tornado came through because they couldn’t get the generator to work properly after the first storm.

You must have had something to do with that.

I pray that they will all be reunited in a new Piggly Wiggly one day.

But more than that, I pray “thy will be done.”

You know how hard that is for me. I am the type of person who wants to lean on my own understanding, which you specifically forbid us to do.

For too long, I have lived under the delusion that I am in control.

Maybe only a storm of such magnitude could teach me how small I am.

Many are in awe at the size of the tornado. I am trying to focus instead on you, because I know that a God big enough to create a force like that and protect so many of us from it is surely big enough to get us through the days ahead.

There are a lot of hurting people in Cordova, God.

We call ourselves Blue Devils, but please don’t hold that against us. A lot of us believe in you and need you now more than ever.

We are like your disciples who were once in a small boat on a stormy sea.

When they knew they were going down for what might be the last time, they woke you up and said, “Master, carest thou not that we perish?”

Some people may be asking you the same question today.

Remind us that you arose that day with the authority that is yours alone and rebuked the wind and calmed the turbulent sea.

The words you spoke are as powerful today as they were then — “Peace, be still.”

Your next words to the disciples apply to us as well — “Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?”

Increase our faith, Lord. Please speak peace to the storms of our souls.