The first few drops, pattering onto the roof like a kitten's footsteps while an exhilarating wind whips the trees into a joyous rain dance. An eery, dim light seeping across the landscape as the last few glimmers of sunshine are blocked out by the ever-darkening sky. It is here.
The sound of kitten paws is replaced by a stampede of rhinos as a torrent lets loose from the sky. It busies itself with soaking the sponge of the soil, filling streams and ponds, wetting parched plants, and surprising those convinced it was too sunny to carry an umbrella this morning. In drips, rivulets, and impromptu streams, it sets about washing the world.
The lightening, oh the lighting! It splits the heavens into jagged puzzle pieces too fast for the eye to follow, then seals them back together with equal haste - cracks in the celestial ceiling, glimpses into a place we hope to see some day. Following behind are great claps of thunder, rolling together into a cadence to beat any drum line.
A giddy grin overtaks a face moistened by the downpour, while bare feet gallop through puddles and under overflowing gutters. Indoors, a sudden start as one is caught unaware by a heavenly boom. An arm around a shoulder as two pairs of eyes stare, entranced by the display.
Never has nature revealed more plainly the existence of its Creator. The raw power, the overwhelming sights, the outright cacophony, all speak to something far greater than our earthly worries. Yet hidden in the regal display is a beautifully tender metaphor that makes me smile every time the storm clouds move in: a shower of love. An outburst of affection from our God that is so full it tears the sky. Each roll of thunder a shout to His children. Each flash of lightening a healing touch. Each droplet a tiny kiss.
A love storm.
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