You Invade

It's been cold and rainy here lately.  I find myself going to sleep with the rain and waking to it as well. I adore it.  There is something about the weather moving and changing, interrupting our lives that reminds me of the existence of something much bigger than my daily life and mundane tasks.

As a little girl I can recall being deathly afraid of the rain.  My mom told me that God was moving the furniture, but as I pictured the giant couch being moved on the floors of heaven, I could not help but still shiver at the loudness of it all.  My fear was quickly replaced with awe as I would watch my dad seat himself in front of the big picture windows we had in Arizona and marvel at the lightening that one only sees in a National Geographic catalogue. This is coming from a man who once watched a tornado pass from the porch a block away, or he who wanted to drive slower so that we may see the green cloud in the Kansas sky turn into that dreaded funnel shape. Later, he took me to see Twister on the big screen.  I loved that date of ours. And he loves the storms.  The lightening had a way of illuminating everything around us, causing the rain to look as though it stopped mid air and for that second, the dark was gone and was replaced with light.

I began to love the rain that night.  Still, I hold a sweet memory of sitting on our plaid couch watching the dessert drops pour down as hard and as much as they want.  It stopped us in our tracks.  It changed the fear in me to wonder.  It illuminated the darkness around me and continually reminds me that always, no matter how dim or bright, the light will always shine in the dark.

So now, as I sit on my leather couch, hundreds of miles away from my dad, and years away from that fear, I am still moved by it all.  We are so blessed to have a God that invades our lives, because they are not really ours in the first place.