Storms

I love the moments in a thunderstorm coming, consuming, and passing through one’s soul.  Something about the conflict between cold and hot, the push to move on, and the statements of domination conveyed in sound and sight.  I’m never sure which side gives birth to lightening strikes, but their power is evidence to all.  I know I’m bearing witness to a power which could easily consume me.
 
I’m in awe of strike survivors.  I sense they have experienced a small portion of God’s touch, the side we don’t often like to talk about.  The closest I have come is about twenty-five yards/meters.  I know there is a difference in measurement, but I don’t think at the time I could have known the difference.  Every fiber of my soul was standing at attention; my hair was on end, my eyes were transfixed, it was as if my soul was finally and truly still.  In that moment I felt more alive than at any other point in my life.  I knew my God.  I understood exactly where I stood.  I experienced the awesome wonder and beauty of being God’s child, Divinity’s beloved. 
 
I didn’t stay to reflect on the moment at hand.  I realized I needed shelter from the storm at hand.  I knew I couldn’t face this unguarded.  I heeded the advice, “come, my people, go home and shut yourselves in.  Go into seclusion for a while until the punishing wrath is past.”  (Isaiah 26.20) 
 
The memory lingers and returns with the coming of every change in the weather.  A lingering sprinkle brings the scene again.  With a thunderstorm I am in the Presence again.  I hear Nature’s voice and wonder why I ever moved.
 
God is reaching out to you and me today; exactly where we are.  We needed move, there doesn’t need to be a storm to be in the Presence.  The invitation is open to one and all, because and in spite of what the past moment held.  We can be part of God’s cause, bringing relief, harmony to the chaos, and even peace.