Julian had never seen so much rain. For forty days and nights, it hammered down on the small town of Eldridge, Oregon, turning gardens into swamps and streets into rivers. At the heart of Eldridge stood St. John Lutheran Church, a 120-year-old structure of stone and faith, where Julian, the town’s young pastor, found himself grappling with both the storm outside and a tempest within his soul.
The rains began the day Julian conducted his first house exorcism. Ellen Rook, the local librarian, had come to him about strange disturbances in her home—kitchen cabinets opening and closing, lights flickering, weird thumps in the night. It was during this spiritual battle, amid the chorus of thunder and the flicker of candlelight, that the rain began its relentless descent. Julian had succeeded in his task, or so he thought, but the aftermath left him shaken, doubting the extent of his own faith.
As the deluge worsened, the townspeople turned to St. John’s for refuge, believing the church’s old walls could shield them from the wrath of the heavens. Julian, despite his shaken faith, opened the doors wide. The church filled with the young and old, their faces etched with lines of worry and fear.
On the seventh day of the congregation’s encampment in the church, as the storm reached a deafening crescendo, Julian ventured into the crypt beneath the church to retrieve more blankets. There, in the cold silence, he found an old, leather-bound book hidden beneath a loose stone. It was a journal of the church’s first pastor back from 1904 to 1934, the Reverend Samuel Egger.
As he leafed through the aged pages, a particular entry caught his eye—a recounting of a similar storm that had once threatened to erase the town from memory. The pastor had prayed, not for the storm to cease, but for the strength to endure and for the unity of the community. One part stuck out to Julian most, Do I wish this seemingly supernatural storm to cease? Of course. Yet I cannot help but wonder if this is a test from the Lord. As Christ clearly showed on Gennesaret, He has the power to calm the storm as easily as one takes a single step. Yet I wonder if this is where we attempt to strive where the disciples failed then: trust in the Lord despite the deathly throes of the raging tempest. Therefore, I pray for faith and unity in God our Mighty Fortress.
Inspired, Julian returned to his flock with a new resolve. Gathering everyone in the heart of the church, he shared the story of Pastor Egger. He spoke of the saint’s resilience and faith. Moved by the tale and their young pastor’s passionate delivery, the congregation gathered in pews with hymnbooks open, their voices a single, potent force against the howling storm as Julian led them through Psalm 46 responsively:
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” he began.
“Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth gives way, though the mountains move into the heart of the sea,” the congregation responded.
“Though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.”
“There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.”
“God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.”
“The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; He utters His voice, the earth melts.”
“The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
“Come, behold the works of the LORD, how He has brought desolations on the Earth.”
“He makes wars cease to the end of the Earth; He breaks the bow and shatters the spear; He burns the chariots with fire.”
“ ‘Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the Earth!’”
“The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
“Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.”
It was in this moment of unity that a young girl, Mira, yelled excitedly, “Look!” Pointing toward the stained-glass window depicting Noah’s ark, they all witnessed something miraculous—the fierce wind and rain seemed to shy away from the church, swirling around it as if repelled by an unseen shield.
The storm did not cease that night, nor the next day, but the church remained untouched, a bastion of peace amidst chaos. Julian realized then that the true power lay not in the banishing of storms or demons, but in the gift of faith—of trusting in God as our fortress despite the raging storm around us.
When the skies finally cleared on the forty-first day, the people of Eldridge emerged battered but unbroken. Homes were muddied, even destroyed, and gardens washed away, yet the spirit of the town was stronger than ever. Julian, standing before his congregation, knew his true calling was not to command the storms to stop but to guide and unify his people to Christ through whatever tempests may come.
The sun broke through the clouds, casting prismatic colors through the church’s ancient stained-glass, painting the faces of the faithful in hues of hope and renewal. Julian had never seen so much light.
The Lutheran Column 