After the Storm, What Remains?
A Meditation by Rev. Cameron Trimble
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” —Isaiah 43:19
Saturday night, as storms tore through the southeastern U.S., I did what so many others did—I prepared. I secured loose objects that could turn into projectiles in the wind. I shut the chickens in their coop. I stacked firewood, checked the flashlights, and waited. The wind howled, the rain pounded, but in the end, the tornadoes did not come. We made it through this one.
Bleary-eyed from anxious sleep, Sunday I stepped outside into the morning air, and that’s when I saw it—a murmuration of beautiful birds swirling in the sky, moving together like a single, breathing thing. It was mesmerizing, this dance of unity and motion, as if they were not individuals but part of a greater whole. The contrast struck me: the terror of the night before, followed by this awe-filled moment of grace.
Storms come in many forms. There are the literal ones, like the violent winds we brace against. But there are also the storms of political upheaval, of broken systems, of a world shifting beneath our feet. We are living in such a storm right now, watching as the institutions we once relied on crumble, as chaos is manufactured, as power is wielded recklessly. Some days, it feels like all we can do is brace ourselves and hope to make it through.
But Isaiah reminds us: God is doing a new thing. Even now. Even here. Do we not perceive it?
Scripture is full of storms, and each time, they are moments of transformation. The floodwaters of Genesis did not just destroy—they cleansed and made space for a new covenant. The storm that raged around Elijah did not contain God’s voice—but the stillness afterward did. The disciples, panicked in their boat, were steadied when Jesus spoke peace over the waters. Storms are never just about destruction. They reveal, they refine, they clear the way for something new.
The question is: what will we do with what remains?
The murmuration of starlings reminded me of this: we are not meant to weather storms alone. Their flight is not individual but communal, an instinctive trust that they move together or not at all. And maybe that is the invitation for us now—not just to endure, but to move together, to build together, to refuse to be scattered by the chaos around us.
The winds are still blowing, but God is at work in the midst of it. Our task is not just to survive this moment, but to ask: What is being revealed? What must we let go of? What must we rebuild?
The storm will pass. What world we create afterwards will be up to us.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What are the “storms” in your life right now, and how are you preparing for them?
Where do you see signs of new possibilities emerging from the chaos?
How can you move with others, rather than trying to navigate this moment alone?
A Prayer for the Day
A Blessing for the Storm and the Stillness
God of the winds and the quiet dawn,
You are with us in the raging storm,
And you are with us in the still morning after.
Help us to trust that no storm lasts forever,
And that even in destruction, new life is waiting to emerge.
Give us the courage to endure what must be endured,
The wisdom to see what is being revealed,
And the faith to believe that something new is being born, even now.
When fear grips us, steady our breath.
When despair creeps in, remind us to look up.
And when the storm has passed,
May we be ready to step forward,
To build, to heal, and to welcome the dawn.
Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Moving Together
Step outside today, even for a few moments. Breathe in the air, and feel the ground beneath your feet. Pay attention to something alive—a bird in flight, a budding tree, a neighbor’s laughter.
Now, reflect: Where am I holding tension in my body? Where am I bracing instead of breathing?
Place your hand on your chest or your belly. Inhale deeply. As you exhale, imagine releasing not just physical tension, but fear, isolation, and the illusion that you must carry everything alone.
If you are able, reach out to someone today. A phone call, a shared meal, a moment of connection. The work of rebuilding—of dreaming beyond the storm—does not belong to one of us alone. Like the murmuration, we move together, or not at all.
Because even now, even here, God is doing a new thing. Do you not perceive it?
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
March 18 and 25, 2025, 7-8:30pm - Dr. Matthew Fox and I are hosting a Lenten series that we are calling “From Darkness to Dawn: Spiritual Courage and Political Action in the Age of MAGA.” Our first session was with modern mystic, Mirabai Starr. Andrew Harvey was our second guest. The amazing Bishop Yvette Flunder on March 18! Father Adam Bucko on March 25! REGISTER HERE! (recordings are available)
April 1, 2025, 12pm ET - Rev. Damien Lake and I are collaborating on hosting a cohort for new congregation developers that will meet monthly. Ecumenical. Interfaith. Free. Join us.
April 1, 2025 - Rabbi Benjamin Ross and I are collaborating on a new leadership program called “All Together Now: A Collaborative Cohort for Jewish Congregational Leadership Teams.” You can read about the program here.
July 20-25, 2025 - The Art of Wilding: A 5-Day Expedition in Wyoming for Women Leaders. Click here to learn more. Only one spot left!
August 11, 2025, 2pm ET - Dr. Andrew Root and I will be hosting a 6 part series on Spirituality in the Secular Age based on his research. The dates are August 11, 18, September 8, 15, and October 6, 13. Mark your calendars! More on this soon.
September 4, 4:30pm ET - I will be collaborating with the Anderson Forum for Progressive Theology to host a conversation with Thomas Jay Oord on Open and Relational theology. It’s a FREE event. Register here.
October 15-18, 2025 - Converging 2025: Sing Truth Conference (all musicians invited!) at Northwest Christian Church in Columbus, OH. Register here!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
Thank you Rev. Cameron. This is a comforting and encouraging word.
A murmuration is a wondrous thing to witness, and it's a great word and image to introduce into our social culture - thanks -