There’s always been something to me about thunderstorms. It’s crazy to me, but every time it dumps buckets, Angie wants to watch Twister. I would rather just listen to it. There’s a peaceful nature to the tink of the drops hitting the vent cap of the fireplace. A refreshing smell that overtakes all other senses just before it starts to rain. Then the moment the first drop hits you… it’s like that blissful moment when Dad finally pulled out the sprinkler and let you run through it for hours on end every summer.
Once when I was a kid, our house was hit by lightning. The chimney specifically. My mom was on the phone and there was this unbelieveably loud crack that hit almost before we saw the light flash. The only thing damaged besides the pride of the few bricks was the driver side front quarter panel of my dad’s unmarked police car. It could have been MUCH worse.
A few years ago I heard a pastor from a church in Cincinnati say that “in the Spring it rains a lot. In the Spring season of our lives, it rains a lot. But, after all the rain and mud and muck, there’s sunshine with the beautiful growth we see in the Summer.” At that point, there had been no real “muck” in my life … at least that I hadn’t created for myself. All of that changed a year ago. But it took me MONTHS to realize what it was. Even these last few days, I’m realizing the amount of heartache that came upon us a year ago.
Then, for the last 2 hours, I’ve been holding my boy. Have you ever just watched a little kid breathe? How do they know how to do it? How can their perfect little feet be so, well, perfect? It’s one of the times that I can’t believe that some people don’t believe in a Creator.
I’m a loud guy. I look for GOD in the wind and the fire and the thunder. I look for GOD on the mountain tops. But, today I found him in the still small coo of baby. In a plan that I never saw coming. Through means I never knew were available.
So, as I sit and listen to rain for a few more minutes before I go to bed, I’m reminded again that it does rain in our lives. It rains a lot. But, there is always something better. There is a GOD that is waiting for us to reach out to him and hold us the way I held my son tonight.
Close.
Safe.
Secure.
In spite of the issue.
To celebrate.
To grieve.
For more than anything, to love.
May we all remember…
PJT//
PJ Towle
artist / designer / musician
towle.pj@gmail.com
There was a time in my life where I felt the very same way….lots of rain, muck and mud. And, I, too found God in the simple things. Your thoughts made me think of a couple of things…
First, two nights ago, I was doing a little fishing in the pond behind the house with a friend. As we were beating the water with lures and talking….I suddenly got really excited when I heard a couple of bull frogs. The reason for my excitement….a some point last summer I realized the frogs were silent. No sounds whatsoever. Why you ask? In talking to a neighbor, I learned another neighbor dispatched them to wherever frogs go when they die. It turns out that neighbor hated the sound…said he couldn’t sleep for all the noise.
I love the perfectly orchestrated sound of God’s creation outside my windows…be it frogs, crickets, birds, the grass or corn growing, the wind blowing or a storm rolling in… all of them. I find those sounds more musical than some of the stuff on the radio they call music.
Second, hearing the doctor report from my grandson’s latest visit (5lbs.12oz. and 18+ inches) made me think of another time in my life of God’s perfect creation. I was holding my boy, all 5lbs.12oz. of perfectly orchestrated little hands, feet, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and body.
As I gazed into his eyes and studied his every move..breathing, twitching, face wrinkling….I, too wondered how some people can not believe in a very creative God that designed this masterpiece. There is no way this little guy is the result of a slug crawling out of a pond somewhere and suddenly walking upright.
Reading your comments today leads me to only one thing I can say:
WELCOME TO FATHERHOOD, MY LITTLE MAN, WELCOME.
Dad
You’ve spoken right to my heart several times on this blog, but today’s comments were just what I needed. It’s an amazing thing to hear God speak to you through the words of your son…awesome really. I have felt a steady rain in my life for quite some time, with little dry spurts of bright sunshine. As I read your comments a refreshing rain began as I contemplated God’s goodness. Then, I read your dad’s comments and a downpour began (imagine that from me!). Thanks for sharing, Peej. Thanks for being vulnerable. Thanks for allowing God to use you. I’m proud of you and I love you dearly!! Mom
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