Rumblings: day 14

One thing I missed  during our 16 years in Alaska, was thunderstorms.  Oh we had an occasional storm, one per year perhaps.  Rarely were those thunderstorms very impressive, but I would relish them nonetheless.  Missing the thunderous display we remembered from our childhoods in the Midwest, my husband and I would strain our ears to hear.  "Shh! listen!" we'd tell our sons, and just maybe we'd hear a distant rumbling. 

There's something about thunderstorms which evokes a sense of  mystery, awe, and thankfulness in my heart.  They remind me that there is so much that is so much bigger than me.  When a thunderous, BOOM shakes the house and electricity streaks through the sky, lighting up the night, I'm reminded of how mighty our God is. 

 The South has thrilling thunderstorms, and lots of them, providing ample opportunity to light candles, put the tea kettle on, and snuggle in for the show.  We've had several such cozy afternoons and evenings together, staring wide-eyed out the window as the thunder crashes and thrashes and reverberates.

Some storms cause very dramatic displays.  The sky is black with churning, angry clouds.  Rain comes down in torrents, creating a liquid curtain as it runs off the eaves.   The sound can be deafening.  We've also had plenty of nights when the storms are gentler, coming in overnight. We wake and then drift back to sleep with smiles, feeling safe and secure inside.  

Whether it's a violent display or a softer show, there is unmistakeable beauty and power in a thunderstorm.  It's something to be enjoyed, as long as one is tucked safely inside.  It's also useful in refilling our hearts with awe and reverence, because as mighty as these storms may be, they are only a creation, fashioned by a truly magnificent, Mighty Hand.

For a complete listing of posts in this series, click here.