The God of Rain

I was awoken at 3:30 this morning by crashes outside our bedroom window. Flashes of light bolted through and made shadows dance briefly on the wall, and then another crash. Our windows were shaking. I remember looking at the weather last night and knew there was a chance of rain. But this storm was on a different level. I imagined those National Geographic specials on storms and floods and pictured our house breaking as the floods tore it apart. I imagined us being that group of huddled people floating down the street, Lauren, me, and the dog all huddled into the center of the bed while lightning and rain and thunder displayed it's awesome and terrible might around us. I'm much more dramatic in the early morning. The storm, as intense as it was, was not National Geographic bad.

As Lauren rolled over for me to hold her, a different thought came into my mind. I started picturing the disciples in the middle of the sea when the storm hit. As Deadliest Catch has taught me, storms at sea are far more dangerous and frightening than ones on land. I imagined the disciples screaming at each other to cut the sails as Andrew and Peter grabbed anything they could to scoop water out. I imagined food and clothing being thrown off the side as John and James got knocked into the hull by a giant wave. I imagined a lot of swearing, and last thoughts and final regrets, and tears as they braced themselves for that final wave, that final bolt of lightning that would send them each into their end in the sea. And then I imagined Jesus sleeping, trying to rest from days of teaching and healing people. I always picture him sleeping on his side, but who knows, he may have been sprawled out in the back of the ship's cabin.

I realize this all sounds a little over the top, but like I said, I'm far more dramatic in the early morning hours. As I pictured the scene of the disciples in the boat in the middle of the storm with Jesus in the back sleeping, I remembered the outcome of the story. The winds and the waves obeyed him, he calmed the storm. As I layed holding my sleeping wife, I just repeated over and over, "The winds and the waves obey him. He calms the storms." Needless to say, I was overwhelmed. The storm surrounding us made our room light up as if there were 100 halogen lamps flashing and our windows shake as if elephants were wrestling in the room next to us. But with a word from God, the storm would cease. For the rest of the morning, as the storm intensified and waned, intensified and waned, I lay in terror and wonder at the awesome power of God. And I feared Him.