I am terrified of storms. Absolutely. Terribly. You see, though, God and I have a thing for rain.
I hug myself and put the hood of my hoodie on my head as if to shelter my somewhat still put together hair. While we lived in Mississippi I danced in the rain with my pooch. It poured. If I stood directly under the shelter of our front patio space it was as if I was in an outdoor shower. When I went in the house, soaked still in my pajamas, I glanced in my parent's master bathroom. The curls framing my face while my eyes were tired... I whispered, ''I want to be a missionary.''
Is this part of my fear? His magnificent awesome leading into something scary? Maybe it is beyond the childhood memory of a childhood storm... Or maybe I analyze things!
Tonight, I would sing the African song that I know, ''Rain, Rain, Beautiful Rain.''
I would glance back best I could to the moment that I imagine to be 4 'o' clock in the morning along the hills of Lake Victoria. That moment you realize you have more time to sleep, so you cuddle yourself back into your pillow asking sleep to hurry back. In that moment in Uganda, it was thundering. God was clapping. Clapping away my weariness; clapping away my loneliness; clapping away my fears; clapping away my pride. In a tent full of 5 women total, He was singing over me. As I like to imagine Him doing this night.
The Lord has been showing me His majesty and His tenderness lately... all in one.
The wind being violent and comforting at the same time, as well as the rain.
The thunder being God's clapping and His lightning His strobe lights coming down from the clouds. He clapped tonight in the way that send the little children to sleep in between the comfort of Mommy and Daddy. So, of course, that allows this hopeless romantic a time to daydream... and of my sweet children running in to find their rescue. As I gaze to the clouds, I am utterly in awe that I have been above those clouds. That means, when God sends a storm, He has to reach down farther to do so. ;)
I did myself the pleasure of a few twirls on my sidewalk... to tell Him that I accepted His dance. I accept His offer. Every offer. Every single day.
My hair is still frizzy from it, but I couldn't take it out quite yet. I had some memories to dig out again.