As I was driving home from work at 2:30 this morning there was quite a thunderstorm brewing overhead. First the flash of light then the crack of thunder.
I remember thinking about 3 years ago, after having lived here for 3 already, that Houston never really has thunder storms. I realized this when I was wakened one night by a loud roar from the heavens. The thought of living in a place where there were no thunderstorms saddened me. It's not your typical thing that makes one sad. But it made me sad because I have such fond memories of thunder and lightning. In St. Louis you can watch a thunderstorm roll in from anywhere. When I was three years old, my mom and I would sit on the front porch of the apartment we lived in at the time and watch the storms roll in. It would start with a still calm, quiet in the night. Then the sky would be wild with light. And then the thunder would come. While we were sitting we would see the lightning flash and then we would count..one...two...three..four...and the thunder would crack and we would say the rain is four miles away. So then we would wait for the next flash and count again. Three miles this time.
There is a certain majesty that comes from God's creations. There was such a serenity I feel when sitting out under the wide open sky with a storm forming just above me. And I feel no fear. It's the same majesty I have written about before- about how I feel when I would stand on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea in Akko or at the base of the Flat Irons in Boulder.
And so tonight, this sleepless night, I sit in the doorway of my front porch with the lightning flashing and the thunder cracking in rapid succession as it is now raining.