Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Facing Fears, God's Magnificence, and Other Stuff

That's me, with my (older) brother and Mom. I was probably about two, so this was likely in 1940. I don't remember it, but we'd stopped alongside a road somewhere (probably en route from Calumet City to Indianapolis) and Dad snapped this picture. And the post is partially, at least, about Mom and me.

Mother was deathly afraid of thunderstorms. Probably stemming from her childhood, she said that lightning and thunder had terrified her for as long as she remembered. But, as a young mother, she'd decided she didn't want that terror to show around her kids, and the only way she could think of to deal with it was to attack it head on. And she did just that.

Whenever a thunderstorm would hit the neighborhood we lived in, she'd pick me up and carry me to the front window, open the curtains, and tell me we were going to look at all the pretty lights in the sky. She said the lights made a big boom, but it was OK cuz we were in our house, nice and dry. When we'd get a big clap of thunder, she'd laugh and make some remark about it.

I never knew she was scared, until I was grown, and she told me.

One lasting legacy of her facing that fear was that, to this day, I love thunderstorms.

Which brings me to last Saturday afternoon. We had a thunderstorm here that we used to describe .. in Indiana .. as a "Trash Mover". It rained long and hard, and the lightning and thunder were just awesome.

I sat on our back deck, and just relished the moment, and was reminded that God produces dozens of these wonderful displays of power, every minute, somewhere on earth. And Jesus is Master over even the worst of them, as He showed some frightened fishermen on the Sea of Galilee, one day.

And this God, and this Savior, are the Ones Who tell me They love me! And want me to serve them!

Wow.

The storm was bad enough that our dusk-to-dawn light, on the little shed we built out back, came on at 2 in the afternoon.

I silently thanked my Mother for her facing of her fears, and showing me the pretty lights in the sky, when I was just a little kid. And that reminded me that the good we do, lives on, long after we physically leave this earth. In more ways than we'll know, this side of eternity.

See the settee and the chair in the photo? They're part of a set .. a table, eight chairs, a chaise, and the settee .. that Mom bought for us in the 1990's, after we'd enclosed the deck. Mom died in 1997, and years later I spent a good deal of time immensely enjoying her legacy, last Saturday afternoon.

Thanks, Mom. And, most of all, Thanks, God.

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