Mar 22, 2007 09:00
As I drove home last night through the pouring rain, I saw thunderbolts rip through the sky. I saw one thunderbolt come down straight, make a loop, and continue down to the ground. Most of the thunderbolts illuminated the city like the lights on a football field: violent, powerful and revealing.
Here in the midwest, the rain is different. Growing up on the California coast, rain was sporadic and something to be excited about. I remember coming back from church, so antsy to get home and get my boots and umbrella because the rain had just stopped and David and I were going to play in the puddles. The water would rush down the residential hill our house sat at the bottom of and into the drainage ditch in the field, beside the "dead end" fence and the ice plants. Running water was such a novelty. If thunder and lightening came with the rains, we were even more aware and observant, awed at its forceful nature.
Out here, rain is plentiful and powerful. Torrential downpours are common, and they come and go quickly. Last night the raindrops were the size of ping-pong balls, or so I thought as I ran across the parking lot. Lightening danced and thunder rolled all night. The thunder out here rolls on and on. Sometimes it goes on for 30 seconds, beginning in a powerful way and waning off like God is turning down the volume to better hear what we're saying.