The Storm

Late last night it started. First there was a flash off in the distance, followed by a rumble that sounded like an 18-wheeler traveling over a bridge overpass. As the night crept on, the flashes became brighter, the rumbles became more pronounced and then the clouds, so heavily burdened and full, released all that they had.

The combination of sounds was a little frightening. My room, with my bed right beside the window, was at times noisy and eerily quiet at the same time. The noise that was outside seemed to suck all of the noise from my room.

As the night wore on, this awesome display became bigger than any fourth of July fireworks show I had ever witnessed. The sound of the 18-wheelers became a caravan of "monster trucks"--the likes of which I have only seen in pictures-huge earth-moving vehicles with tires the size of houses. And on top of all that, the sounds of a million whispers and hisses filled the air.

This was no ordinary storm. This was a bone-shaking, teeth-rattling, house-moving, storm. And it seemed to go on forever.

As the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled across the dark sky and the rain pounded, I felt the size of an ant, but with a sense of security that seemed odd in the midst of such a display of awe-provoking power.

Only God can do this.


Psalm 77:17-18

17 The clouds poured down rain.
The skies rumbled with thunder.
Lightning flashed back and forth like arrows.
18 Your thunder was heard in the windstorm.
Your lightning lit up the world.
The earth trembled and shook.