Crashing of Thunder

I just heard a severe weather warning for the first time in my remembrance. Grey clouds fill the sky overhead. The pines around my house sway in the strong winds. There is no rain yet, but the air is filled with swirling dust. Dead leaves left among the boughs blow across the deck.

It’s just after 5 o’clock on a June afternoon, and it’s already growing dark. When the lights in my bedroom blink, I tell my sister to turn off our desktop computers. A few heavy drops of rain begin to fall. This morning when we had a short shower, the songbirds rejoiced in the trees. No birds sing now.

I hear the first thunder growling from the south. The rain is uncertain; it pauses, then pours down for a couple minutes, coming and going. The thunder is growing closer. At last, the first flash of lightning illumines the sky. A moment later, thunder follows. Sirens wail not far away.

The rain now is what might be called a downpour. The cool shower cleanses the air, washing away the heat of the past several days. Its refreshing scent floods through my open window. Small rivers begin to form at the edges of the street. Another flash. One, one-thousand; two, one-thousand; three, one-thousand… I count to six before the thunder crashes. The booming lasts for nearly another six seconds.

I listen to more sirens, this time coming from the opposite direction. The distinct sound of a fire engine’s horn reminds me of the danger brought with this storm. I heard on the radio that a boy was struck with lightning last night.

A train whistle blows. It repeats itself again and again, gradually fading in the distance.
The sky lightens as coming nearly to a complete halt, the rain merely patters now. Several birds chirp, eager perhaps for the feast of worms that will surface.

---

Honestly, I fear yet delight in storms. Their power excites me. My favorite thing to do during thunderstorms is read the last few chapters of Job and the passages in the gospels where Jesus calms the storm. The elements may be mighty, but He is mightier still.

“He covers his hands with the lightning
and commands it to strike the mark.
Its crashing declares his presence…”
- Job 36:32-33

The Lone Star State

I have not posted in quite a long time. I am, however, doing so now. Although I generally reserve this blog for rather serious topics, I have considered for some time deviating from this pattern. As the name of this blog denotes, it is a place to record remembrances. As stated before, I am doing so now.

Bicycling home from school thirteen days ago, I discovered a message on our answering machine. In typical extended-family style, my grandma bought—unbeknownst to me—a ticket for me to fly to Austin the next Tuesday.

"Why?" you may ask.

A few days earlier, I had learned from my cousin’s blog that she would be accompanying our grandma from California to Texas for a week to visit our aunt and uncle. Naturally, I commented asking if I could come too. The cousin mentioned the comment to Grandma and Aunt. Apparently the answer was yes, as I’m sitting in Austin at the moment.


Doing something one has hoped for a long time to do can sometimes be disappointing as the imagination may create higher expectations than can be feasibly met. Not so now. Contrarily, I am more in love with Texas since visiting than ever I was in the past. The last few days have been some of the best I can recall.


This week has been filled from boot toes to the brim of a cowboy hat with such adventures as long drives to Fredericksburg, lobbying at the state capitol, attempting to whistle on lilac leaves, Texas Two-Steppin’ at the Broken Spoke, drinking tea while watching ridiculous movies, trying on $1,000+ cowboy boots, remembering the Alamo from within its walls, attending Cowboy Church, and eating barbecue. Lots and lots of barbecue.


I pretty much have the best family ever. Also, really cool boots.

He's Got the Whole World in His Hands

   Of late, I have been coming more fully to the realization that God is God of the whole earth. He is not just a local deity; rather, Jesus "ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation" (Revelation 5:9).

   Next year I am going to go to a school in a different country full of people from all over the world. We may be from various continents, but we have something in common: Jesus. And ultimately, our citizenship is in the same country: Heaven.

It Came.

As I sat at my desk, studiously completing my algebra homework, I heard the familiar thump of the mailbox closing—the postman delivering letters. I considered getting up, then thought better. No, the letter I’m waiting for won’t arrive for another week. I continued solving the equation before me.

Some time later, my mother appeared at the bedroom door, distributing the mail. She handed me an envelope. It was the size of envelope that contains an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper folded in half. The postmark was foreign. This was the envelope.

A prayer in my heart, I reached for my knife and slit the envelope along the end. I withdrew the letter. Tears pooled in my eyes as I gazed at three words: Official Acceptance Letter.

That’s right, I’m going to Capernwray.

400

In honour of John Milton's 400th birthday today, I present for your deliberation a quote from his most excellent and epic poem, Paradise Lost:

"Nor love thy life nor hate but what thou liv'st
Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n."
- 11.553-4

100

"Why Do You Always Smile?"

It’s a question I have been asked numerous times.

To say I always smile is a bit of an overstatement. Generally, but not always.

This past year has been my most difficult thus far. With a job, college, and life in general, I tend to become stressed. I cry pretty easily too. Still, one can usually find me with a ridiculous grin spread across my face.

When asked this question most recently—during the break at my psychology class—the man asking said something interesting. He implied some people [himself?] might not like the fact that I seem so happy, because they are not happy themselves. It seemed strange to me that someone could resent, and be jealous of my happiness.

Since that night, I’ve been thinking more about why I smile so much.

Is it because I enjoy learning new things every day? Is it because I find excitement in nearly all I do? [well, data entry can get kinda boring—although some of those city names are quite unique.] Is it because I have a lot of good things in my life? Is it because I’m simply thrilled to be alive?

Why do I smile so much?

I think the best answer is the one I told the man in my class: Jesus.

…happy are the people whose God is the LORD! – Psalm 144:15b

Hanna[h] the Hurricane

I was so excited when I learned that a tropical storm—and potentially a hurricane—had been named after me [they spelled it wrong though—it should be Hannah not Hanna]. No, I don’t like the fact that my namesake may bring destruction and death; however, I really like turning on the radio and hearing my name broadcast to the nation. I am instantly captivated by weather channel. “Look out for Hanna[h], she’s a’comin’.”

It seems odd that two syllables can please me so much, but I really like it when people say my name. Although the word has lost value from overuse, special describes the way I feel when someone addresses me with my name. This person actually deems me significant enough to know who I am.

In John 10, Jesus talks about being the Good Shepherd taking care of His sheep. He says, “The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out” (John 10:3). I am delighted to think that the King of the Universe would know my name.

My name is graven on His hands
My name is written on His heart
I know that while in heav’n He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart

- Before the Throne of God Above