beautiful power.

lightning strikes...
grey is the rain that pours on my windshield
and the sky is illuminated in smoky shadows.

for some, terror rises
and the pelting water ushes fear into the hearts of man
a thunderous bolt cracks apart the heavens
shooting straight toward the earth
they are torn between pulling over to safety
and reaching their destination.

but for her--
oh she who thrives at this magnificence,
she whose breath is stolen by the sheer thought of this beautiful power--
it is glorious
strangely magical
and it breaks all pride she once clung to.

for Who is this
that commands the clouds
that alters the patterns of the wind
and can--with a mere thought--
turn light drizzle into thunderous downpour?

it jolted my thinking
and i suddenly realized this is a mere snapshot
of God's wrath against those who reject him
who hate his name
who don't have time for him
or who think they're good enough to make the cut,
not recognizing (or accepting)
that "good people" don't go to heaven.

how often have i failed to exemplify God's grace?
how many times have i modeled merely obedience to the rules,
rather than heart transformation?
oh Father...God who holds the lightning bolts in your palm
forgive me
and forgive those i know who dont know you
the people who think they do but dont,
and they who have no interest in you

i know so many people who--
if they refuse your loving forgiveness for the many times they've broken your perfect standards--
are destined for never-ending fire & damnation
and without humble repentence,
your wrath at their sin will be poured down upon them
like the storm i drove through last night.

use me, sweet Savior.
let my life serve only as a light amidst this dark, stormy world
may i let my own desires and dreams die

so that yours will live.


H