A Quote by Max Lucado

Whether or not storms come, we can not choose. But where we stare during a storm, that we can. — © Max Lucado
Whether or not storms come, we can not choose. But where we stare during a storm, that we can.
There has storm clouds come over the United States. There is thunderstorms over Europe. There are hail storms – and I mean major hail storms – in the Middle East. So I want you to know that there is one man who will stand tall in this country and fight the storm and bring the United States back to what it should be – Governor Mitt Romney!
We haven't time to spare to hear whether it was between Italy and Sicily that he ran into a storm or somewhere outside the world we know-when every day we're running into our own storms, spiritual storms, and driven by vice into all the troubles that Ulysses ever knew.
The great test of life is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God's commands in the midst of the storms of life. It is not to endure storms, but to choose the right while they rage.
And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
So, the great test of life is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God's commands in the midst of the storms of life. It is not to endure storms, but to choose the right while they rage. And the tragedy of life is to fail in that test and so fail to qualify to return in glory to our heavenly home.
Religious faith is not a storm cellar to which men and women can flee for refuge from the storms of life. It is instead, an inner spiritual strength which enables them to face those storms with hope and serenity.
Please drop a note to the clerk of the weather, and have a good, rousing snow-storm -- say on the twenty-second. None of your meek, gentle, nonsensical, shilly-shallying snow-storms; not the sort where the flakes float lazily down from the sky as if they didn't care whether they ever got here or not, and then melt away as soon as they touch the earth, but a regular business-like whizzing, whirring, blurring, cutting snow-storm, warranted to freeze and stay on!
Life can give you strength. Strength can come from facing the storms of life, from knowing loss, feeling sadness and heartache, from falling into the depths of grief. You must stand up in the storm. You must face the wind and the cold and the darkness. When the storm blows hard you must stand firm, for it is not trying to knock you down, it is really trying to teach you to be strong.
A storm was brewing. The wind has picked up and a mass of purple clouds was coming in from the West. It felt good to have my hair whipping around my head. I thought it might feel good to have hail beat down on me. Sometimes storms outside are the only relief for storms inside.
The eagle had two natural enemies: storms and serpents. He embraced the storm, waiting on the rock for the right thermal current and then using that to carry him higher. While other birds were taking cover, the eagle was soaring. An eagle would never fight against the storms of life.
Unless you are in the middle of a storm, there is no validity in saying that you are not afraid of the storms.
The greatest power God gave us is the power to choose. We have the opportunity to choose whether we're going to act or procrastinate, believe or doubt, pray or curse, help or heal. We also choose whether we're going to be happy or whether we're going to be sad.
The storm ate up September’s cry of despair, delighted at its mischief, as all storms are.
This life will never be without storms. Stop fearing the storm. Build your inner shelter.
All men and women are born, live, suffer and die; what distinguishes us one from another is our dreams, whether they be dreams about worldly or unworldly things, and what we do to make them come about... We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we live.
My passion for storm chasing has always been driven by the beautiful and powerful storms displayed in the heartland each spring.
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