I thought I knew what was coming...

 

The dogs took cover inside as I made my way outside mid morning. They are my most reliable indicator of an impending storm. I sat in that white wrought iron rocker between the table and the basketball goal, my back to the sky and read for a couple of hours. Until I heard booming thunder. This wasn't the first time I've chosen to sit on the porch and enjoy being a spectator of a  thunderstorm. I thought I knew what was coming, but I was in for so much more than I anticipated.

I turned to face the yard. My senses were on high alert. I listened. Rain came. Swooshing sideways in sheets, pounding the roof and any other flat surface it found. Gradually tapering to a gentle whisper. The thunder swelled and abated. Grumbling then rumbling, by turns. I watched the clover, both its leaves and flowers, bob and weave as raindrops hit them. I saw lightening flash. The tiniest moth or butterfly, white, flitted across the yard. A plump bumblebee floated past. Birds, even in the downpour, sang. Wind chimes played. And then things changed.

I have often sat at the feet of Jesus for a variety of reasons.  There have been times I have fallen flat on my face before Him in agony, praying from a place deep within my being that doesn't frequently get touched. Today I heard an invitation to lay at His feet in the midst of this storm. Not to pour out my troubles, but to drink in His presence. Not from the safety of my family room on my comfy couch, but on the only slightly comfortable futon on my back porch. I responded by grabbing a pillow and throw blanket from inside, lowering one arm of the outdoor futon so I could stretch out on my side and I laid down. This was no nap time, as I have taken advantage of before. No this was something new.

Normally when there is no escaping the reach of the rain on the porch I retreat inside the house where I will remain warm and dry and safe. But not today. Today when the rain began to mist my face I lay still. Feeling it. Welcoming it. It woke me up from an unknown slumber. I slowly became aware that I was receiving more of what I'd begged God for this morning-for eyes to see Him and ears to hear Him clearly.

Today I am aware that sometimes being in God's presence is uncomfortable. It can be messy. His light can be almost blinding, even when my eyes are closed. His voice can roar and shake things up. 

The blanket I am wrapped in feels like I am being held.

The breeze caressing my face feels like butterfly kisses.

I wish I could say after the storm everything in my life was sorted out and resolved. It wasn't. What I can say, without a doubt, is that it is so very good to be loved by God Almighty and that simply laying at His feet, with no agenda, is a beautiful experience.