I love a good thunderstorm.

In fact, I believe I started a blog post with exactly that same statement a couple weeks ago.

One of my absolute favorite things in the world to do is curl up under a fluffy, warm blanket and take a nap while a huge thunderstorm crashes outside.

I also love a snowstorm, the kind of blizzard that blows with fury and promises at least one snow day…if not more.

True, I’m not a teacher anymore; therefore, snow days have no real merit. And at the same time, knowing that everyone around me is hunkered down, sipping coffee (or cocoa) and watching the white rage outside…it’s comforting. I’m also known to randomly bake cupcakes late at night when there’s a blizzard going…that’s just fun. Plus, cupcakes are really good with coffee and cocoa…and just about anything else.

Ok, sorry…small rabbit trail. 😉

Anyway, I’m definitely thankful for those kind of storms.

But I also know that when I came up with my writing topics for this month, that those kind of storms weren’t really what I had in mind.

Do you mind if I tell you a story?

You see, there’s a golden retriever sleeping on the floor at the foot of my bed as I type this.

His name is Sammy.

And while those of you who know Sammy think of him as a crazy, lovable, lion of a puppy, he h

as so much more to his story.

True, he annoys the c–p out of me almost daily. He barks and wakes up Maelie, he never leaves Andre alone, he destroys stuffed animals, he carries the bathroom rug around the house…and outside.

But for a week, over four years ago, we found out what it was like to live without all of this.

And it’s this storm that I want to tell you about.

Tobin and I had just spent a summer in Indonesia while most of our friends had gone back to the States.

We’d had some good times…and some tough times, and we’d decided, as the school year was just beginning, that we needed to be more disciplined with spending time in God’s Word.

We were waking up early to read and pray…and while those first days took some major discipline and dedication, it was becoming habit. Good habit.

We were growing, something we desperately desired, and it was good.

Not long after we had gotten into this habit, something turned our world upside down.

Sammy was stolen.

Someone, in broad daylight while we were at school, had come to our fence, lured him to the edge of our yard, and taken him.

To say we were devastated only scratches the very surface.

We couldn’t eat. We couldn’t sleep. We couldn’t function at school, though we tried. We couldn’t think of anything but our Sam.

Where was he?

E ach d

ay seemed like a year. We prayed, we drove by the stolen dog markets multiple times a day (yes, they really do exist), we handed out fliers, we offered a huge reward.

And we cried.

I’m an emotional female and tears aren’t so rare for me…but to see my husband break down and sob over the loss of our Sam…was heartbreaking.

We couldn’t understand why God was letting this unbearable storm rage around us.

One afternoon when Sam had been gone a few days, Tobin went down at the police station to file a report.

I was home alone.

The sun was shining, it was the perfect Indonesia September day…

And it was just pouring in my gray, defeated heart.

I felt helpless.

I felt crushed.

We wanted to grow…and we were growing.

There was nothing I could do…nothing.

And it was at that moment that I dropped to my knees…and literally fell on my face before God.

I sobbed…as I poured out my heart.

I cried out to Him and told Him how much I was hurting, how much I missed my Sammy, and then…

How much I still loved Him and trusted His plan.

And I honestly can’t tell you that, as those words came out of my mouth, that they were in my own power.

Because I’m pretty sure they weren’t…but that didn’t make them any less true.

A few more days followed (you’ve heard the rest of the story) before Sammy was returned to us.

I still remember how the sunshine literally returned to our lives that day…how we couldn’t wait to just live again. Of course, we spent a lot of time loving on our dogs…

But we also spent a lot of time basking in the JOY that came after the storm…and giving thanks for blessings. Tobin and I also, I believe, got a little peek at the heart of God…and how He truly does care for His children and the things that matter to each of us.

To say I’m thankful for storms is hard… none of us love when life is hard.

But what comes after the dark is beautiful.

And for that?

I am thankful.