There's something about a storm that's good for brooding. And there's something about a dark cloud that evidences the might of God. As Francis Schaeffer says, "He is there and He is not silent."
For centuries, humans have tried to control weather. I'll spare you the history lesson: we can't control it. When the clouds come, how intense the storm, for how long they stay-- we are not in charge.
And how often do we try to control what is not in our power? As a mom, I've tried to control things. I tried to control Avery's newborn schedule (no one remembers to tell you about colic & reflux); I have tried to control Avery's behavior (after literally carrying a screaming, thrashing toddler through Target, I will never again judge another's parenting); I have even tried to control "perfect" spacing between children (God had other plans).
When the dark clouds come, I am reminded that there exists a greater force than myself. And I believe in a God that is power itself.
It was when Jesus calmed a particularly violent storm that the disciples finally looked around and asked each other, "Who is this man?" (Matthew 8:23-27, Mark 4:35-41) And, it is through storms-- both physical and metaphorical-- that we feel the magnitude of His might.
And though we cannot control the storm, we can control our reaction to it. It is not natural to say of the rain, "What a happy, happy thing!" But, we can choose to delight in the storm-- to feel the crash of the thunder in our bones and witness the potency of something so much bigger than ourselves.
Storm, amaze me.
