Somewhere off the West Coast of Africa: a wind blows, some clouds gather, a tropical depression forms and embarks on a pilgrimage westward.
Small-town, Texas: 7,703 miles further west of the tropical depression, life follows a cyclical sun up, sun down, day-to-day pattern. Nothing remarkable. Hot weather. Humidity. Two-a-days. Bar-b-ques. Preparations for the beginning of the school year.
A week goes by.
The tropical depression has advanced hundreds of miles across the Atlantic and converges with the northeasterly trade winds and prevailing winds. The coupling of the three creates atmospheric instabilities which gives birth to the beginnings of a hurricane.
Washington, D.C.: 4,425 miles northwest of the fledgling hurricane NOAA tracks the storm issuing ever changing path projections, grading processes, prepping travel alerts.
Small-town, Texas:, school begins, new clothes, the smell of new books, the din of students in halls. Traffic on the highway increases at rush-hour. Families comfortably fall back into established school-year routines. Sun-up-sun-down, nothing remarkable happens.
A few days pass
Tropical depression no more, the storm has ripened into a full-on Category 4 Hurricane. It mauls the islands that make up the Bahamas and crosses land in Cuba, entering the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. It takes the lives of 60 in the Caribbean and southern Haiti.
The Gulf Coast:, 900 miles northwest of the current victim of the storm, evacuation orders are issued. Families hurriedly pack their cars; close up their houses, board buses bound for evacuation centers. Interstates encumbered with vehicles ladened with families, over 2 million people and their belongings seeking higher ground, asylum from the looming tempest. Cities previously clogged with pedestrian traffic, cars, bicycles, taxis, now practically deserted save for the die-hards and national media hounds covering the forecasted onslaught of cataclysmic weather.
Small-town, Texas:, weather reports forecast rain later in the week. The local news covers the hurricane (now assaulting the islands in the Gulf) as a weather angle that will likely bring rain later in the week.
A couple of days (give or take a few hours) go by.
The hurricane, having lost strength despite the fuel the warm waters of the Gulf provides, slams into North America 121 miles east of a metropolis still licking its wounds from an encounter with another hurricane a few moons previous. The hurricane slows considerably, causing flooding, heavy rain and tornadoes in the Gulf Coast region
Middle of the night, Small-town, Texas:, 310 miles northeast of the center of the mammoth storm, the winds from the outer most edges of the storm howl and rattle the windows of a girl lost in sleep. The aged pecan trees in her yard creak and moan as they try to keep up with their dance partner, the wind. The girl, gently nudged awake by the sudden change in her room from silence to war cry of the wind, opens her eyes, gains her bearings and peers out the window to a cloudless night, branches flailing, and a lawn covered in small sticks and limbs blown from the pecan trees by the wind.
Although thousands of miles from its origin and hundreds of miles from where it made landfall in her country, the girl was affected by the turbulence of the wake caused by the storm. She felt no rain, nor did she have to abandon her home in search of safety, or lose a loved one to the vortex of wind and water. However, the sound of the wind, the wake of the storm that raged hundreds of miles away had nudged her awake, gotten her attention, snatched her from her dreams, dug her out from her position burrowed under high-thread count sheets and a lofty down comforter.
Our lives, every decision we make, leaves wakes. Will the way you live your life leave a wake of division and deception, death and destruction? Or will you live a life characterized by wisdom, love, patience, kindness, and unabashed service to God and the furtherance of His Kingdom plan?
Will your life leave wakes that will shake folks from their slumber, forcing them to evacuate their temporal homes to begin their journey toward their eternal home? Or will you leave stranded those die-hards who refuse to believe that any storm can hurt them? Better yet, what about right now? Today? What are you doing, what are you involved in that will leave a wake that slams into the walls of eternity?