We are the fortunate ones.
The storm that rolled across the middlewest last week nearly missed us. We got three, maybe four inches of snow. The roads are ugly as a result. The cold is inconvenient. Yet no one died of it, here. Farther off, in the thickest of it, people did die. And lives were changed. We are the fortunate ones.
We are fortunate in knowing that we are not in charge of the universe. Such a storm may not make us believe in God, but certainly it confirms our status as mere specks in God's eye. The greater will of some great natural process trumps us in everything. We kid ourselves if we think free will is entirely free. We are creatures of the universe, and subject to the limitations all creatures encounter.
You may preach that it is otherwise, but your talk will not stop such a terrible storm coming on. Your words will be lost when the universe collapses back upon itself some twenty-five billion years hence. Oh, what a work is man. If one pushes back too hard against the universe, he misses the lesson he is being taught.