Toni Lynn

Yesterday, as I pulled into the parking lot of soccer practice, the notification came through that we were under a lightning delay. After the storm rolled through and practice finally started, I looked up and saw a breathtaking double rainbow. I snapped a picture, but of course the photo didn’t do it justice. As I stood there, I thought about the deep symbolism of a rainbow after the storm.

What struck me even more was the timing. Just as the storm was passing over the soccer fields, my officer was finishing up a SWAT callout across town. Our day had already been marked by change—him rushing out the door, shifting the trajectory of our afternoon, and then the storm shifting the rhythm of our evening. Storms have a way of doing that. They come uninvited, rearrange our plans, and demand that we adapt. And yet, they also leave behind reminders of beauty, grace, and hope.

Here’s what settled deepest in my heart: no two people ever see the same rainbow.

Scientifically, a rainbow forms when light reflects and refracts off raindrops, and the colors that appear are relative to the position of the viewer. Each person’s rainbow is entirely unique—shaped by their exact place on the horizon, their angle of view, and their relationship to the light source.

And isn’t that such an accurate picture of life, especially for those of us in the first responder community?

I’ve sat with spouses whose husbands were on the same critical incident, standing shoulder to shoulder, even firing their weapons in unison—yet their experiences of that day, their emotions, their “rainbows,” were entirely different.

I’ve walked through my own storm of an officer-involved shooting, and my experience looked and felt different than theirs. The storm was shared, but the rainbow—the processing, the healing, the perspective—was mine alone.

The same is true for every storm we face: the relentless demands of this career, the weight of trauma, the unpredictability of this world, or the personal struggles that find their way into every home—illness, financial stress, infidelity, death, divorce. Each storm leaves behind a rainbow that is uniquely ours. We see it differently because we stand in different places, with different light sources, different life paths, different hearts.

And maybe that’s the real beauty of it. Our experiences are not meant to be identical. They are meant to be personal, distinct, deeply connected to the way we process the storm. Each rainbow is a reminder that even in shared trials, our stories are our own.

For first responder families, this is important to remember. It can be tempting to compare our storms—or our rainbows—to someone else’s. To think we “should” feel a certain way because another spouse or family walked through something similar and responded differently. But the truth is, no two people will ever see the same rainbow. And that’s not a flaw—it’s the wonder of it.

We don’t get to choose the storms. They will come whether we’re ready or not. But we do get to choose how we come through them, and we get to notice the beauty that follows. Our rainbows may not look the same, but each one carries its own message of promise, grace, and resilience.

So, friend, the next time you find yourself in the middle of a storm—whether it’s in your home, your marriage, your family, or in the wider first responder community—remember this: the rainbow you see is yours. It was meant for you. Don’t compare it, don’t diminish it, and don’t miss the beauty of it.

Because no two people will ever see the same rainbow… and that’s what makes it extraordinary.