August 3, 2020 (Monday)
Day before yesterday, on August 1, I posted a blog about youth-led revivals of long ago in Rockport.
The blog mentioned that those meetings were held during the week beginning with the last Sunday in July and ending with the first Sunday in August.
I remember when Hurricane Celia was headed for us and the hurricane flags were flying. The year was 1970 and hurricane warning flags were still being flown. The practice by the National Weather Service was discontinued in February, 1989. The storm hit on a Monday, but on the day before, on Sunday, we celebrated the last day of the revival meeting. We canceled the evening service because the storm was on its way. On that Sunday, after the morning worship service, we stood in front ot the church and cast our eyes upon the hurricane warning flags that were flying on the waterfront a few blocks away.
Mister Sorenson was our weather man and gave demonstrations of the weather flags in schools. When he showed them the hurricane warning flags, he always said, ‘These are the ones I never take down,” meaning, of course, that the hurricanes destroyed the flags.
Today, August 3, we celebrate the 50th anniversary of Hurricane Celia, a powerful storm. It lasted only a few hours, but it did tremendous damage. Until Celia, everyone talked about the 1919 storm. After Celia, all the talk was about Celia. Then came Harvey in 2017, and we’ll be talking about Harvey for a long time. These three horrible storms came at intervals of about 50 years. A pattern? I think not. Always be prepared. Recently, Hurricane Hannah, a Category 1 storm, seemed to threaten us, but took a different path and went inland eighty miles south of here. The storm teaches us a lesson: don’t take anything for granted. Every storm has its own way of doing things. Yet all of them have one thing in common: “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
TILL THE STORM PASSES BY
(Mosie Lister)
Recorded by:
Bill Gaither; Vestal Goodman; Greater Vision;
Inspirations; Ron Jarman; Ben Speer.
In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,
While the storm howls above me,
And there’s no hiding place.
‘Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.
Many times Satan whispered, “There is no need to try,
For there’s no end of sorrow, there’s no hope by and by”
But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I’ll rise
Where the storms never darken the skies.
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.
And the storms come no more,
Let me stand in Thy presence on the bright peaceful shore;
In that land where the tempest, never comes, Lord, may I
Dwell with Thee when the storm passes by.
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.