Flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder break through the silent, dark night. Listening to the icy rain hit the window, I’m reminded again of my smallness. Our smallness. For all our knowledge and technology we can’t, with 100% accuracy, predict, plan or direct the path of a storm.
There’s general calm in our home right now. Aside from a nasty flu bug, the sky’s are blue. But even here in the mostly sunny spot, gray clouds threaten. They take the form of thoughts, my thoughts. Accusations form a menacing and dark and low-hanging wall cloud. Some of the blaming words fall on me: what’s wrong with you? why can’t you be more thankful? you’re not doing enough. you’re not enough. And when my brain’s ready to explode just to expel the stinging words, they shift from myself to others: you deserve more. what was she thinking treating you that way? they always have to be right. you’ve been wronged. Pride plays a ridiculous game with our emotions making us the victim and victimizer at the same time.
Then, when I step back and observe my thoughts instead of participating in them, there’s another voice. No blame. No accusations. Only Grace offered up freely to this broken woman. And forgiveness breaks through and I’m off the hook and others are off the hook and the calm returns.
The Life-giver whispers to this weather-beaten soul Be still and Know that I AM God.
**my daughter took this photo on her way to school last year**