drip. drop. splat. crack. *too bad there isnt a sound word for lightning... maybe bright?*
I remember as a little kid when storms would come, I would be pretty scared. I dont know what it is about kids and their fear of them, but I had it.
Rain in and of itself wasnt so bad, but when wind, lightning and thunder was added to the mix, man, the covers could not come high enough!
The little story like things we now tell kids never provided any comfort- I didnt care if the rain was bowling with the lightning! The fact was, when there was a "strike" my windows rattled and the "spare" casted eerie shadows from the trees dancing outside.
What about the storm did I allow myself to get terrified about? What are mere forces of nature in comparison to the wrath of my God over sin in my life? That is much too deep for what I thought about then, no it was more simple than that...
Did I really think that these courses of change in climate would effect me- so comfortably burrowed in my bed? Why did I allow it to rob me of sleep into the wee hours of the morning? Why could I not find the joy and delight of the storms that I have now, then?
Yes, now I LOVE storms! The bigger and longer the better!
I feel oh so small, as the wind blows the rain sideways into the house, bending green trees as warm wax, the thunder so deep it rumbles the group you stand on and seeing the light show pierce its way across the sky! No movie will ever compare!
Knowing each drop is counted, each bolt directed in its splintered path, how can one not feel small in the presence of the sacred?
Do I worship storms, hardly.
Though, the Maker of them has fully captivated my very being. That moment of standing and facing the oncoming storm, the blackness that rolls across the sky bringing with it both dread and excitement, one has to know what the disciples thought in that boat of Mark 4.
They faced a storm themselves, not spiritual or emotional, quite physical and very daunting. They thought for sure this was their end. Once they woke Jesus and He calmed the very thing they had been agonizing over, they were terrified of Jesus- because even the wind and sea obeyed Him.
Maybe thats why I am no longer scared of storms, I dont know. I know the One who is orchestrating each element of that storm is holding me in His pierced hands.
And not just physical storms for me, but the ones that they senses cant fathom- The ones that rage in the heart of me. I take comfort, and fear, in knowing that everything is under His command.