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Tuesday, August 09, 2005
I'm fascinated by thunderstorms. I always have been. It's one of the perks of growing up in the Deep South. In fact, one time I was at a church listening to Dr. John MacArthur talk about his new book and a real, live, Alabama thunderstorm rattled the roof and windows. He made the comment that since he lived in California he'd experienced several earthquakes...and if given a choice or those or storms, he'd take the earthquake.
Not me.
I love the rain. That hard-driving, windswept rainstorm accompanied by thunder and lightning. I can't get enough of it. I especially like being outside right before they roll in, too. You can even smell it.
I'll watch documentaries on tornados, or if there's a hurricane I'll tune into the Weather Channel for up-to-the-minute videos. I just don't write down my observations like David did in Psalm 29: 3--9 (from The Message):
"God thunders across the waters, Brilliant, His voice and His face, streaming brightness-- God, across the flood waters.
God's thunder tympanic, God's thunder symphonic.
God's thunder smashes cedars, God topples the northern cedars.
The mountain ranges skip like spring colts, The high ridges jump like wild kid goats.
God's thunder spits fire. God thunders, the wilderness quakes; He makes the desert of Kadesh shake.
God's thunder sets the oak trees dancing A wild dance, whirling; the pelting rain strips their branches. We fall to our knees--we call out,'Glory!'"
If you read this set of verses in the New American Standard version you'll see that it's God's voice that does all those things...which I think should've been noted in this translation. Maybe the translator interpreted God's voice to be synonomous with God Himself.
Because David was comparing the thunderstorm rolling in to the power of God.
His voice thunders across the waters. It echoes in stereophonic harmony. It smashes the hardest of wood...breaking trees in half. It makes entire countries skip, like when we're startled by surprise thunder. It shakes the wilderness. Lightning flashes. It makes trees dance.
And the result: We fall to our knees. We give God glory.
I guess that's why I've been drawn to storms. We all need that reminder that God is God and we're not...and there's not one thing I can do to prevent or start a thunderstorm. All I can do is enjoy them (if I'm able to be near shelter) and revere their power...and that powerful reminder that God is so powerful that the best David can do to show us how powerful He is is by using a storm as an example.
So, for today, how does God's power being alliterated by a thunderstorm teach you about Him? What do storms and God have in power in other ways than listed here? What ways do we need to let God be God and realize we're not Him?
Brent 5:12 AM
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