Stormy Knots

I can't decide if I like storms. A part of me loves seeing lightning dance across the sky and hearing thunder roll in the distance. A part of me embraces the rhythm of the raindrops as I fall asleep. But there is another part of me: the pit of my stomach. And that part of me doesn't know what to think. My insides knot when I even hear warnings of storms. I don't think I'm afraid. I think I'm aware. Storms make me aware of God's power... and I'm not sure if I like it. I don't like being reminded that the weather man really has no say at all, or that I can't make the rain clouds go away by closing the blinds. Somewhere past my superficial calm and excitement, just for an instant, I wonder if He really knows what He is doing. "You're still in control, right?" I ask. He answers with a soft peace.
I'm reminded of the psalm I read just this morning, Psalm 19.

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world."

In my quiet time, I wrote this psalm into my own words. Here's my version:

Look into the skies.

Can't you see it? Can't you hear it?

Their actions never cease and their voices never fade.

All people understand because it's a different language, one we all speak.

Their words echo in every corner of the world. All have heard them.

I don't think there's a single person on this earth that hasn't felt that twist in the pit of their stomach. The twist of the storms. The twist that says, "There's Someone more." Sunday night in a mission trip meeting, my dad asked the youth to define "awe". One boy said, "It's bigger than you." In storms, I feel awe. I think everyone does. I think that's exactly what He wants.