While at camp meeting this past week, we experienced some storms. It was hot and humid one day, rainy the next, cold, sunny—we had everything. Well, Wednesday night I was in the teen tent and they said there was a tornado watch in effect and they were monitoring the weather. There was a significant amount of lightning and the sky started to turn color, some “cloud movement” was sighted and they decided to evacuate the kids into the basement of the auditorium. Suddenly there were hundreds of kids spilling into the basement and their leaders were frantically trying to figure out how many of the kids from their tent were there and parents were coming looking for a specific child. I stood outside for a bit watching the churning clouds and the people dashing for the shelter of the auditorium.
I love storms. I love lightning, and rain, and the sheer power of them. I understand how dangerous storms can be, but I also am quite fascinated by them. I guess I like the perspective it gives me of how small I am in the grand scheme of things…how great God is…
I think I really fell in love with storms when I was living in Nebraska. The Midwest has fabulous storms and the level landscape lets you see for miles. I came back one summer and realized that the prairies had grown on me and that I loved them. I sat transfixed as I watched lightning bolts dance across the horizon from one end to the other; it was breathtaking.
I remember laying out on the grass one hot summer night watching a storm roll in. Lightning flickered across the sky: pink, green, and purple lighting up the darkness. Before long I was in a downpour, icy rain pelted my face and steamed on the warm earth; I was soaking wet, but I felt so alive.
Anyway, back at camp meeting in the basement, the leaders were making order of the chaos and got their kids sorted and divided. Our tent went into an empty racquetball court and continued the meeting where we left off. I knelt down to roll toy cars across the floor with my new friend Jedie, before joining the teens sitting cross-legged on the court floor. While the storm raged outside, we opened the Word of God, sang a deafening rendition of We are Soldiers, and bonded. I love storms.
