Rainstorms and Windchimes

We had bad storms yesterday evening. I mean bad. Just as my family was heading out for dinner, a lightning storm descended upon us. And by descended, I really mean blew in from the west, over beyond the river.

We were all three sitting outside on our back porch listening to the rain, when the rain brought distant thunder and lightning to our front door. We all scurried inside, thinking it would soon pass.

But we were wrong. Soon we were directly under the storm. Directly under as in hearing three sounds: the rain, the thunder, and the lightning popping fifty feet away.

I’ll be honest. I even found myself getting antsy and telling my mom that I wasn’t too fond of this storm.

We were each doing our own things. Mom had the paper, dad was doing God knows what, and I was finishing up Anne Lamott’s latest book Grace (Eventually) which is pretty good, fyi. Basically, we were trying our best to avoid the tempest just outside our door.

Then, through the midst of the rain and wind and popping and crashing, I heard our wind chimes ringing. They were peaceful and calm, a ringing voice that reminded us that even in the presence of the most turbulent of storms there are moments in which, if we listen carefully and closely enough, we can hear God’s own voice of comfort.

A couple of weeks ago, I rediscovered a favorite writing of mine. I’d like to share it with you now.

It is not you who shape God:
it is God who shapes you.
If then you are the work of God,
await the hand of the Artist
who does all things in due season.
Offer the Potter your heart,
soft and tractable,
and keep the form in which
the Artist has fashioned you.
Let your clay be moist,
lest you grow hard and lose
the imprint of the Potter’s fingers.

-Irenaeus, 2nd Century Theologian

Blessings.

jon.