His Love is Like a Storm

I have this memory. I don’t know how old I was … elementary school age for sure. It was summer, extremely overcast, and monsoon. As usual, because our whole household LOVES the smell of Arizona rain, all the windows were open, front door wide open, and the curtains on windows that couldn’t be opened for one reason or another were drawn wide exposing the beautiful billowing storm clouds getting ready to dump water on our dry cracked desert.

I remember when it started to rain … everything stopped. TV turned off. Toys were forgotten. And any other distraction and noise were cast aside for quiet. Quiet. The house was silent as the droplets turned into giant teardrops that eventually turned into sheets of warm summer rain. The kind that you wanted to go sit in.

But of course, mom wouldn’t let us, so we compromised by lying on our bellies on the carpet by the open front door, chins propped on hands eager to touch the precious drops, breathing in the glorious scent. That thick lovely smell that makes you feel as though your insides are being washed out. The air so heavy with moisture, you feel like you’re swimming. The carpet damp and spongy under your bare feet.

Nothing else mattered when it rained like that. If you were sick, mad, sad, bored, overwhelmed, anything … the rain was all around us. And everything suddenly no longer mattered in light of the powerful storm.

Image courtesy of Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum.

I long to feel that way about the Lord. That His presence is so thick around me that I feel as if He is literally right there. That His presence deems everything else unworthy. Insignificant. Small in comparison to His glorious power and love.

I want to care less about my circumstances. About my worries. Fears. Pains. And sit more in awe of Him. Chin propped on hands eager to worship. I want to be washed by the Holy Spirit. For His work to be so complete that I feel as though my very insides are being cleansed.

I need Him. I need His Word. His encouragement. The assurance of His love.

I need the raging storm of His passion for me to ravage my heart and change me forever.

I want to breathe deep His scent and be overwhelmingly in love with the thickness of His presence that I am moved to silence. Silence of my loud spirit. Silence of my babbling tongue. Silence of my hasty and controlling actions.

To let it all go and trust. To remember He paid it all. Gave it all. Willingly. Because He loves us.