If the first hailstorm hasn’t ruined a farmer’s corn crop in southwest Nebraska this summer, the second, third, or fourth one has. At the end of June, an evening of golf-ball sized hail was followed the next day by winds reported to be blowing at more than ninety miles an hour. Needless to say, our little town is sporting a lot of new roofs.

On the 17^th of July, at 12:04 p.m., I captured some of the severity of one of those storms with my little digital camera.  A mere 20 minutes later, noticing how distinct the shadows were on the ground, I pointed the camera toward the sky – and saw nothing but blue and cotton white.

July 17, 12:04 p.m. from Cheryl Bryan on Vimeo.

For all the severity of the wind and noise and huddles of hailstones it left behind, once the storm had passed, the crispness of the air and clarity of the shadows gave me an odd exhilaration, caused a little, I suspect, by relief that the storm was over.

Though the storm passed quickly, it left permanent damage: branches and leaves torn from the trees, tomato plants that will never produce, a dented car hood that will test our willingness to pay an insurance deductible for body work.

We picked up the debris, thankful that the trees still standing will produce new growth. We mourned the damage to the garden, hoping summer will be long enough for it to recover.

And so it is with life’s little squalls – the sudden fast-moving storms of commotion or confusion that pass through our ordered lives. They may not destroy us, as a larger storm might. Nonetheless they leave their marks, maybe in physical weakness, damaged ego, or blighted friendship.

So we must take the time to clean up the mess they leave behind: Repair what we can and adapt to the rest.

And when we see the next squall approaching, we can face it with confidence, because we know eventually the clouds will clear, revealing the blue sky and the sun, the source of light that, though concealed, was there all along.

We’ll know the clarity and new wisdom that come only on the other side of the storm.