THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE'S HURRICANE SEASON IS expected to run through October of this year. To those living on the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts, the prospects of damage may seem harrowing—especially amid reports that storms could cause serious delays in BP's oil spill cleanup.

At one time, my husband and I might have felt there was little we could do. That's changed.

My husband, Mark, and I live in the Puget Sound area of Washington State, which is known for moderate weather. One day, meteorologists forecast winds of 85–100 miles an hour in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains where we live. That got our attention. Although it was windy by the time we went to bed, it seemed no worse than it would normally be in a storm. We were about to learn we were wrong.

Two hours later we awakened to a horrendous "thud" outside that sent us scrambling to the window.

The wind was blowing hard. Silhouettes of flying fir needles and branches, thick as a whiteout in a snow storm, were blowing sideways across the dark gray sky. We prayed fervently, expecting to feel God's presence and protection. In other words, we expected results.

Jesus showed what prayer can do during storms. He and his disciples were at sea when strong winds nearly swamped their boat. His disciples rushed to him, woke him, and said, "Master, carest thou not that we perish." But Jesus didn't panic. Instead, "he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm" (see Mark 4:37–41). Jesus saved their lives. He was fearless. But his response made a powerful point: Spiritual understanding can mitigate even the potential destructiveness of a raging storm. Now, of course, one could say, "That was Jesus." But through the study of Christian Science, I've learned that we can, by degrees, live out and demonstrate Jesus' example.

And so during that stormy night, as my husband and I heard the wind tearing through the trees, our fears were greatly assuaged by promises found in the Bible. We prayed with the 91st Psalm. It powerfully assured us that God's love is always near and ever present. Something John said in the Bible was a great help: "Perfect love casteth out fear" (I John 4:18).

Our ability to keep fear at bay came from experience in quickly turning to and radically relying on God, divine Love. We've made it our lifestyle to companion with God, and we'd learned that we didn't have to wait for a storm to appear before taking up those mental, prayerful conquests. Fear could be blocked from access to our thoughts, even in the middle of frightening fictional portrayals of storms. In fact, it can become natural to us all to turn to Love in times of sudden need.

In our prayers, we pleaded God's allness, His infinite nature and omnipresence. We kept praying until we could feel God with us. Any doubt that God might not be powerful enough to protect us was overturned by this statement by Mary Baker Eddy: "Omnipotence has all-power and to acknowledge any other power is to dishonor God" (Science and Health, p. 228).

Something else became necessary to address mentally. Many people believe that damages caused by powerful storms are "acts of God." But the spiritual account of creation tells us that "the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" and created the world and everything in it (see Gen. 1—2:3). God rejoices over His creation and pronounces it to be "very good." An infinitely good creation is the derivative of an infinitely good God, Spirit.

In the English translation, the word wind does not appear in this account of creation. But it does in the original Hebrew version, where the word spirit means "wind" (see Strong's Bible Concordance). And this is the connection that explains why spiritual prayers have a protecting influence amid apparently material storms. God is the sole cause and creator of His spiritual universe. We can rightfully conclude that the "wind of God" is as good as everything else God makes. Harmful storms are not acts of God. Jesus clearly knew this.

I'm not saying that it's our place to control the weather. But when a storm arises, we don't have to wait it out and do nothing. We can listen for God's guidance to know how to shape our prayers.

In the storm my husband and I faced, we clearly heard God's message of peace through the 91st Psalm. "The secret place of the most High," we realized, is beyond the perception of the physical sense. It is absolutely real, tangible, and accessible to spiritual sense. Spirit is infinite and indestructible, whereas matter is finite and destructible. God is divine Mind, and the substance of Mind is Spirit. As Mind's ideas, we are each comprised of spiritual substance, which can no more be destroyed or harmed than God can be.

Spirit is a very safe refuge in times of trouble. Through prayer, we see divine Principle adjust our circumstances to align with God's eternal law of harmony. Why? Because God's harmonious universe of Spirit is here first. God is ageless, timeless, and immortal. God's child is perfect and coexists with and reflects perfect God. The eternal nature of God and of each one of us underpins our safety and security, even in storms.

God promises to deliver us. Wherever danger seems to be, God is right there. We are not victims; we are not helpless. As God's children, we reflect the same dominion Jesus expressed. It's clear from the Bible account that in the boat he didn't pray just to save himself; his prayers embraced everyone there. Similarly, in our prayers, my husband and I didn't pray just for ourselves either, but for everyone who was in the same "boat" we were—our neighbors, our community. To us, Love's presence was palpable. Like baby chicks huddling under the sheltering wings of their mother hen, we wanted everyone to feel Love's presence, comfort, and defense against forecasters' predictions that fallen trees would be dangerous, inevitably causing damage.

We lived in what originally had been a campground and recreational park. And this space was full of old-growth trees—we had nine huge ones right around our house. But this experience wasn't just about trees. It wasn't about risks and odds. We reasoned that nothing is left to chance in God's good universe. Life is not a gamble. Only evil's boasts involve risk and chance. As we took a stand against evil and destruction that night, God supplied us with angel thoughts, supportive Bible passages, and confidence-inspiring hymns.

About 4:00 a.m. the winds began to back down and we went to sleep. Two hours later, we grabbed flashlights to survey the grounds. Every single tree in our park had gotten a thorough pruning. Three had fallen right behind our house—but not on it! (That had been the source of the "thud" outside.) Our street was impassible. But our house, our wrought iron fence, and even the bird bath and bird feeders, were intact. Lifting huge branches, we found that not even our plants were harmed. We felt inexplicable joy and had the conviction that prayer is effective.

We set up our camp stove out on the deck and cooked hotcakes and bacon and eggs. Neighbors began checking in. Not one person—and not one house—was damaged. Most neighbors had no heat, so my Mark put lots more wood on the fire in our wood stove, and we welcomed the neighbors into our home. They warmed themselves, Mark put on a huge pot of chili, I made hot chocolate and sandwiches, and we all happily ate together. Soon our daughter came by, and we learned her family and home were safe, too.

Days later, we made these final assessments: We'd gotten acquainted with our neighbors, who quickly joined in the cleanup. With fewer trees, sunlight would now filter into our gardens. The downed trees would make great firewood. And an arborist said that those still standing would become stronger because they would drive their roots down deeper.

With this experience behind us, Mark and I share a new confidence. It comes from knowing that as we all pray, our prayers really can be highly effective in negating the destructive effects of large storms on the lives of people, pets, and property. Prayer is something we can all do. |css