This morning I was awakened by a thunderstorm. I love thunderstorms. They remind me of my King’s majestic, mighty and overwhelming presence. I don’t think that I always loved thunderstorms. In fact I have some distinct memories of being a little girl and lying in bed, shivering with fear, desperate for the storm to pass.
The first time I remember feeling any sort of awe or wonder was one summer when I spent a week with my grandparents. It was the summer after their house had burnt down, so I guess that would have made me around eight years old. My grandparents spent that summer living in a trailer on their property as they rebuilt their house. They live in a valley so they are surrounded by mountains. Every evening after supper my grandmother, my little brother and I would sit outside on the porch of the unfinished house. One night we sat watching as a storm approached. I watched the grey clouds move along the mountain tops, rolling closer and closer until the storm was upon us. That night I lay awake, listening to the thunder rumble and the rain hammer off the metal roof of the trailer. For the first time my fear was mixed with an exhilaration and that crazy ache of longing that always fills my chest whenever I experience something truly beautiful.
So... I have finally decided to start a blog. I’ve toyed with the idea off and on for years now. I’m not exactly sure why I finally sat down and did it today (maybe waking up to such a storm was more inspiring than I realized), but I just feel so full of things to write. I’ve been thinking so much this whole week. My mind has been traveling at such a breakneck speed that I can barely keep up. Actually this form of thought process is a rather frequent occurrence for me, but the speed at which my thoughts have been churning these past couple of days really is alarmingly close to record high. I have so much to think about and one thing that God has really been placing on my heart constantly this semester is the call to rejoice in him no matter what circumstance I find myself in.
At first I was discouraged and frustrated by this because I couldn’t understand how God could call me to rejoice even when I just felt like sorrowing. I hate when people are fake and I wasn’t just going to act happy. But then I was reading through the psalms and it hit me how pretty much every time rejoicing is mentioned (and it is mentioned a lot) it is prefaced with a call to praise the present and mighty God. It’s a hard thing to do for sure. Praise does not come readily to my lips but I found that once I began to praise him even for the smallest of things, a spirit of thanksgiving would enter my heart and joy would fill me. True joy that is totally overwhelming and exhilarating yet altogether peaceful. It is complete contentment with where God has me now and a swelling desire and expectation for what he has promised is yet to come. Joy is still something that I struggle daily to hold onto but God is so gracious to fill me again and again. He pours rejoicing on me like rain, watering me down to the roots.
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