It’s been coming for a while. The Dark clouds have been dominating the horizon for the past two hours. Fifteen minutes, ago, we heard the first rolls of thunder.
Then all the lights flicker, once, twice–
And suddenly it’s raining. Hard. The wind blows the rain into a perfect 45 degree angle, and the water seeps and pours and floods in every crack. Each window loses its smoothness and becomes a seamless sheet of water, a rippled liquid glass.
Within three minutes of the actual downpour starting, rivers and creeks form. Miniature flash floods sweep the ground down to its bones, rock and gravel and bare tree roots..
The first fury abates for a moment, and we all hold our breath, wondering, watching–will this be a short summer squall? But the rain settles down into a steady sheet, no longer screaming its defiance of our tiny human selves, but mulishly plodding, stubborn and steady.
Occasionally, it whips itself back into a fury, as if to remind us that it really doesn’t care what we think, that we want to go home, that our cars and trucks stand out under its tantrum.
It’s magnificent. Beautiful. Deadly. Alluring.
And it obeys the voice of my God.
The God who can create a summer storm, who does so regularly and often, holds me in His hands.
I will glory in this storm, for it displays the power of God. And I will glory in my God, for He is the One who can create a storm.
Even though the storm slay me, The might of wind and water–
Still will I trust in Him, for He is my stronghold.
Even the wind obeys Him.