Even in the Storm

Available for hire: one experienced storm chaser and live shot reporter.

I woke up thinking about a 15-month old baby missing after the Midwest tornadoes. News reports say the father had used his own body to shield his son and wife but the tornado ripped the child away. Reports said the hospitalized parents were too injured to know their baby is gone.

So here I am again, ready to head back if I get an assignment. Why? Why give up comfort and security for a story? Why face danger for potentially no reward?

I grew up in tornado alley and went to work at a rural TV station after grad school. Racing down dirt roads, chasing funnel clouds, tracking a path of twisted trees and flattened corn stalks...just another day's work.

"Please don't go," said my friend Esther when I told her about my plan. 

"It's not the risk or the adrenaline," I struggled to explain. "I know the child's probably dead but there's something about that family's story..."

After reflecting a minute, Esther began to speak. "It's because the father covering his child with his body - it points to God," she said. "Even in tragedy, the father was there. The tragedy doesn't discredit the father's love. That is the true character of God."

A father's love - that is the story worth telling.  A love that cannot be quenched...even in the storm.

 www.facebook.com/shayholland

The End of the World, Again?

May marks my 11-year anniversary in California. 

The world didn't end as predicted in 2000 (remember Y2K?) so that spring I'd packed the few things that fit into my two-seater, headed south on I-5 and showed up on a friend's doorstep in the Bay Area.

Fast forward seven years. 

Spring again. Packed again. Back on the I-5. This time bound for LA. 

"God has released you to pursue the adventure of His calling," said my pastor and friend.

Even though I didn't clearly see the reasons for change, it felt like time. I was happy when the move fell into place so quickly; my roommate and I took the first place we found on the Internet that would rent to us sight unseen.  Seemed to confirm it was time to go.

"I feel like LA holds part of God's redemptive plan for me," I'd told friends. Yet I have a lingering sense of delayed destiny. 

Blinded my ambition when I was a young reporter, I'd wasted the platforms I could have used to help others. 

Regrets? Certainly. 

Redemption? Absolutely.

Spring again. A fresh start. 

But why do my moves always seem to coincide with the end of the world? In 2000, it was Y2K.  This time it's supposedly Judgment Day.  Starting right here in the Pacific Rim on May 21st (read the prophecy here). 

Guess I'll be happy either way with a front row seat to either the sunset...or the Rapture.

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