Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won’t rot, I won’t rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won’t rot.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.” (After the Storm, Mumford and Sons)
It rained today. Hard. Torrents of muddy water careened down the driveway.The wind blew, bending the trees until branches intertwined with each other. The sky was black and then turned a light gray. It was actually quite bright. The thunder had a drawl, pounding for what seemed like minutes. Lightening flashed quickly, but not often. This was, with out doubt, a thunder storm.
I stood at the front door watching and listening. It had been a hard day. Physically I was spent. Emotionally, I was swirling. We buried one of my elders today. One of my favorites. The service was beautiful, one of the best I’ve attended. My husband and I were the youngest ones there. How unacceptable. I know people have jobs and previous engagements. But, he was one tremendous man of God. He deserved more. On the other hand, I knew he was rejoicing in heaven, giving his little sigh/laugh and walking around no doubt looking for a tree to climb. Those who spoke told nothing but the truth about this great man. I was thoroughly touched by the entire service.
Now, I stood. Looking at the storms that so graciously held off until after the service. Enjoying the droplets popping off of the roof and loving the reverberations of the thunder. I love storms. Well, to be honest, I love weather – period. Good, bad – it doesn’t matter. I find beauty and joy in it all. I have not experienced the worst – tornadoes, hurricanes, mudslides – but snow storms, floods and thunderstorms? Those I LOVE. The rain just reminds me of refreshing. It may be light and last briefly, gently laying on all it lands on. Then there are times that it just pours. It washes away quickly the things that are not grounded firmly. Thunder reminds me of God’s voice. Not because I think God has some deep, rolling voice, but because of how it happens. Sometimes thunder is long and it takes a while to finish. Sometimes it is short. It may only occur once in a storm, or quite a few times. None the less, it gets heard.
Thunderstorms are a beautiful thing. As I stood there the words of the previous song came to mind. I wanted to run in that storm. There was just something in me that said “run“. Of course, I couldn’t. But, I wanted to. I closed my eyes and soaked it in, letting the sounds fill my world, just as if I were running wild.
Then, I thanked God. I thanked him for my family and for my friends. I thanked him for stolen kisses and surprise hugs. For unexpected compliments and smiles that whisk away sorrows. I thanked him for provision and destiny. I thanked him for mercy and abundance. For music and talent.
I thanked him for life and for loss. Because in both things there is beauty, just like the thunderstorm.