Aug 032016

The thunder shatters the sky with its lingering boom and the forks of lightening travel down grabbing giant bites of the earth and as quick as it strikes it disappears and the night returns to the black shielded by the clouds. Thick air has lost it’s stickiness as the rain wipes at the ground and everything on it, like a violent baptism and the proof of God’s touch will be evident once the clouds lift and the smell of ozone lingers in the air, when the sun rises the plants will be fed, happier, seemingly taller and more green and though they live without sin the twisted baptism done in the night cleanses all the yuck away and leaves a brighter, happier display of God’s power and might and I remember being 3 years old and my hair bobby-pinned just right and the white dress I wore and my grandma smoking a Number 7 as she tugged and pulled at my hair making it perfect only so a priest could dump the baptismal water over my head and wipe away the painful pulls and place me in the hands of a God who loves always, fiercely, deeply, completely. I watched my brother also clad in white have the water poured over his tiny skull and the sign of the cross on his forehead and the tears come out as this stranger touched him and in my childs-mind I wondered if the tears were the evil that had crawled inside leaving him.

As the storm loses it’s strength and then comes back with a greater intensity than before I can’t help but wonder if that’s how God works in me, I stray and when I become the prodigal son and stumble back home are His arms open wider? Is his love more intense? Or am I simply more willing to acknowledge and accept? Am I still saved of my sins through the baptismal sacrament that happened when I was merely 3 or was I really only saved when I accepted Christ as my saviour so many years later?

Does the child with faith and who does not understand reap the same benefits as someone who has always placed the Word of God and living in God’s love first? When scripture tells us we must come to the throne of the King of Kings in child-like fashion does this mean we must live with the reckless abandon that we had as young’uns? Does it mean I shouldn’t question and simply obey? Is this type of thought even okay? Should I read the books that pull me near or leave them down and enjoy the miracles of Noah and the Ark, Moses leading his people, GODS PEOPLE, out of slavery and into the dessert, should I imagine the parting of the sea or the burning bush? Should I stare into stained glass window panes that depict that stations of the cross and feel the pains that the Christ-child suffered for me?

And as soon as the twisting storm began it calms and I imagine Jesus on that boat taking on water and how He calmed the storm. If only it were the middle of the day I know there would be a rainbow to see!

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