I am in awe of the power and majesty in a thunderstorm.
There is the rumble in the far distance to foretell it’s “coming.”
There are fast-moving clouds darkening the sky wrapping the
storms around you. There is the rustling of the leaves foreshadowing
the stillness that arrives just before the wind. The crack of lightning
changing darkness into noon day bright and the smell ozone.
The graying out of the trees in the distance tell of the rain approaching.
The power of the wind and rain grow blotting out the trees, homes,
and horizon leaving only those very close at hand visible.
In the midst of this power I am certain the storm is only a miniscule glimpse of the power of my Lord.
Originally written: July 20, 1998
A thunderstorm traveling across the landscape has a majestic view.
It also has devastation within it’s core. I feel a heightened sense of
anticipation when I see or hear a storm approaching.
This anticipation was created and fed by family. My earliest memories
are of living in Ahmeek, MI in a house at the top of the hill. The front
porch had a view of the valley. My Great-uncle Gallagher would sit in his
rocking chair and spin stories of storms, lightning, and cherished ghost
stories. I and my 2 brothers would sit in rapt attention watching the
storms come across the valley. Great Uncle Gallagher’s stories came alive
with the darkening skies and the lightning crackling from the heavens.
Of course there were the stories of lightning coming in through an open
screened window and floating across the room as ball lightning were heard
in several variations. We listened to ways to watch the skies and learn to be
aware the upcoming weather when we spent all day in the
forests or fields.
Each spring I look forward to the new storm season. Each year I have not