As Hurricane Michael set its sights on the Florida panhandle this week, I held my breath. One of my dearest friends and her family lives just 30 miles north of Panama City. Another sister-friend lives near Destin. She and her husband evacuated, but my other friend and her family stayed. The barrage of tv news reports apprised me of the danger to a litany of towns along the coast that lay in the direct path of the storm.
Mexico Beach. Port St. Joe. Seaside. Miramar Beach. The forecast listed so many places I’ve visited with these two friends through the years. Places that hold lovely memories. Places where I went for healing and found it in God’s creation and my enduring friendships.
Now that the storm has passed, it’s heartbreaking to see the devastation the area has sustained. Thankfully, my friends are safe, but I continue to pray for those who were not so fortunate. People who lost loved ones or whose homes were destroyed. People whose lives will never be the same. I hope one day the lovely memories they too have of better times spent enjoying the beautiful Florida coast will bring them at least some measure of peace and joy.
