Storm

Kansas City had a beautiful thunderstorm come through a few days ago. It was exactly what I think of when I picture a perfect thunderstorm. First you have days of warm, sticky humidity, when you don't know whether to put on a light jacket or sweater because of the slight chill, or to take off the jacket because it's just too clammy to have anything too close. Then, the wind comes. Clouds start rolling in from the southwest, starting off wispy and light, then slowly billowing to epic heights. And as the towers of fluff move overhead, the world suddenly goes eery dark, made even more foreboding by the streetlights turn on in the middle of the afternoon. Then you hear it...far in the distance...a quiet rumbling. You pass it off as a truck on the not-to-distant highway, but then you hear it again...a little closer...a little longer... Soon come the first pitter-patter of rain on the windows. Then...the storm hits! Raindrops as big as your fist, drowning out all other noise as it attacks the rooftops with gusto. People huddle in their cars or in doorways, waiting...praying for a break in the salvo to possibly make it inside (or out) without falling prey to the torrent flooding down onto the world.  Then just as you brace yourself to run into the melee - blinding light! Your breath and the very blood in your veins pauses in expectation as the world stops and you begin to count...one one-thousand....two one-thousand...three one-thousand...rumble, grumble, Bellow, CRASH! And a fireworks display better than any 4th of July celebration begins. It's awe inspiring in it's deadly intensity, leaving you feeling both terrified at the sheer power and yet thrilled at the magnitude of it's beauty. At any moment, every moment, another flash and crash, slowly catching up to each other till they happen simultaneously on the street opposite. Then as suddenly as it began, the rage of the storm begins to wear itself out. The one one-thousands slowly grow farther apart, the rain slowly gives up the fight. And there, behind the chaos and strife...a cool, gentle breeze. You close your eyes and take a slow, deep breath. This is what you've been waiting for: the release of stifling air pressure; the scent of fresh, wet grass (or pavement, depending on your taste in scents); the lackadaisical meandering of a breeze following in it's passionate brother's wake, gently bringing a smile to your face and life to your heart.

...And then you realize that this is a metaphor for life sometimes, and you can't help but praise God for the flash/CRASHes, because you know the cool breeze is coming. Just hang on, hope, and praise. Stand in awe of the storm while it's crashing around you; I promise, the aftermath will be worth so much more. (and don't worry, I've been preaching this to myself for the last week. Still storming, but the sunset is spectacular!)