The Storm

A balance the child on my hip and look up to the West. I hear the thick bellows of dark, pregnant clouds. The storm is rolling in.


Maybe you are in the same position I am. The clouds have been building for a while. Circumstances, genetics, the weather- they started to make a foreboding wall of dark; blocking the Son and laying like a heavy blanket on the soul. I smelled the air as the little one and I made our way to the chicken coop. He’s eight months old…eight months without any regular denominations of unbroken sleep. I am spent and God feels far away.


Let it rain. 


I close my eyes and let the thunder wash over me. Oh dear God, let it rain. As I make my way back up the hill, baby and eggs in hand, a few gentle drops wash my face.




Beloved dare I say hold on.  If you’ve been pressed. If you’ve been shaken. If you’ve been confused. Lift your head and hold your ground. Breakthrough is on the way. The winter cannot stay and the clouds cannot remain. Eventually, each trial, each testing reaches its fullness and must break. So tenderly will the rain that once blocked the sun now be the very source of life for the new thing to grow. Lift your eyes and let the thunder wash over your soul.


The roar of heaven. 

God is not impotent. He is not negligent. No not this God. He is not stagnant nor fickle. He is the living God, with the outstretched hand. He is the savior God who comes down from lofty places and binds up the broken-hearted and refreshes the weary. Though He tarry wait for it. Let suffering have it’s work and give birth to perfected Faith. He will redeem every broken situation and breathe purpose into the pain. It will all end in your good and His glory. Hold fast. The season is about to change, it’s about to shift, therefore STAND. Truly He will be all the more marvelous to us  on the other side. Only, don’t give up. Surely He is Emmanuel, God with us. Christ the perfect kinsman redeemer. This Yahweh the God who is as breath to us. He will make all things new.


He always does.


(Below is a link and the lyrics to a song that has often been balm to me in the midst of hardship)

  1. God moves in a mysterious way
    His wonders to perform;
    He plants His footsteps in the sea
    And rides upon the storm.
  2. Deep in unfathomable mines
    Of never failing skill
    He treasures up His bright designs
    And works His sov’reign will.
  3. Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
    The clouds ye so much dread
    Are big with mercy and shall break
    In blessings on your head.
  4. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
    But trust Him for His grace;
    Behind a frowning providence
    He hides a smiling face.
  5. His purposes will ripen fast,
    Unfolding every hour;
    The bud may have a bitter taste,
    But sweet will be the flow’r.
  6. Blind unbelief is sure to err
    And scan His work in vain;
    God is His own interpreter,
    And He will make it plain.


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