There was a storm last night.
It woke my up from a deep sleep.
Light came streaking into my room and thunder slammed into my windows.
I had to see it.
I untangled myself from my sheets and my husband and stumbled to the window.
I yanked back the curtains.
I pressed my cheek against the glass and clung to the windowsill.
When dark clouds start to roll in, I get excited.
I get anxious.
I can't stay away from the windows.
I stare ay the sky.
I check the weather obsessively.
Ask me what the percentage of rain is on any given day, and chances are, I will know it.
Almost down the the hour.
"It's a 35% chance around 3:00, but it's 60% by 5:00..."
I wait for it.
I love the rain. I love storms.
Because nothing else can get away with being so violent.
Nothing else can get away with being so loud. So fierce.
Everything we are is about being composed and in control and safe and dry and shhhh....
But not storms.
Not thunder and lightening.
Unplanned.
Unforeseen.
Out of place.
Out of control.
Seemingly.
Distructive
Disruptive
Rude and ill-timed.
I like storms because they're different.
They're exciting.
They're refreshing.
In a storm, nothing is the same.
Nothing looks the same.
Nothing feels the same.
Nothing smells the same.
They change everything.
I'm in a storm.
Everything is different now.
It is disruptive.
Unplanned.
Unforeseen.
Interrupting my world. Interrupting my sleep.
Changing the way things look.
And I'm excited.
I'm waiting at the window.
I'm listening for the crash.
For there is One who calms the storms.
