A Kite in God's Hurricane

Midlife is lived inside a cloud of chaos. These years are not only your most productive, they’re also your busiest. Your children are active in school, sports, and extracurriculars. You’re no longer at the entry-level of your work; you’ve moved into mid-level or even leadership roles. You’ve gained enough wisdom and substance that people start asking for your time and input. You still feel like a student, but others start calling you “mentor.” These are the hurricane years. It's easy to feel like you’re losing your bearings.

So how do you keep your head?

First, understand this: not everyone is built the same. Some can carry more. Some need less. The parable of the talents reminds us that God gives according to ability. You’re not responsible for someone else’s load. Just your own. So don’t play the comparison game, but do push yourself to find your limits. You won’t have to try too hard in midlife. Life will find them for you.

Our life is full. We've got a house packed with kids. Church leadership. A fast-growing company I care about. Chickens in the yard, dogs and cats underfoot. Our boys wrestle. Some of the kids are learning to ride horses. We’ve got a wide circle of friends. We do have free time, but we don’t spend it laying around. There’s a time for rest, and we take it, but it’s not our default mode. And we’re surrounded by high-capacity people, which keeps us sharp. Still, your full might not look like ours. That’s fine.

So back to it: how do you stay grounded in the storm?

Capacity management matters. But it’s not as simple as staying inside your margins. You need rest, yes. I try to reserve Saturdays as a sort of working Sabbath, just doing things I enjoy. We shoot for two vacations a year, even if they’re short. You do what you can to reset.

But midlife doesn’t let you live inside tidy lines. There’s no stasis here.

During the first year and a half of our church plant, I guarded my time. Kept my calendar in check. Then my brother died. And grief tore through everything. Not long after, my mom passed, and we saw just how much of our life she had quietly held together. Everything shifted.

And while that was happening, both the church and my company were growing. Fast. What was already full got fuller. A few cornerstones came loose. The structure swayed. You can’t plan for those moments. You just live them.

So your sense of capacity needs room to stretch. The idea of staying strictly within limits sounds wise. But it’s not always real. Midlife won’t let you live like that. It’s not a spreadsheet.

If I had to name what’s helped me hold steady, I’d name three things:

1. A clear hierarchy of priorities. You have to know what can’t be dropped.

2. A willingness to walk away from commitments. Let some plates fall.

3. The courage to say no. Not just to dumb things, but to good things that would crowd out better ones.

To go back to the weather metaphor—midlife isn’t one long hurricane. It’s hurricane season. You get some stretches of calm. Things click. But then a few storms roll in and knock you sideways. You recover, if you let go of nonessentials and hang on to what matters most.

But sometimes, a Category Five hits.

That’s when things go sideways fast. In those moments, you’ve got to drop even more. Say no with both hands. Trust God harder.

One line I’ve held onto over the years came from Mark Driscoll, he said:

“I’m a kite in God’s hurricane.”

I’ve always liked that. Because God doesn’t just allow storms. He sends them. The squall on the Sea of Galilee was just as much His doing as the quiet that followed Christ’s words, “Peace, be still.” If you believe in Providence, then even the chaos becomes strangely comforting. God is not just with you in the storm. He’s over it, through it, and working in it—for His glory and your good.