Lightning

Standing in the middle of the silent parking lot, I stare into the night sky. Fascination secures my feet to the ground. I watch on as, in the distance, long bolts of lightning strike silently, over and over again. The surreal absense of sound and the light fog on the ground makes this a dream. It has to be.

Fingers of light stretch across the sky, reaching from cloud to cloud, never able to grasp what they appear to long for. What power is this? Watching the sky erupt before me, the true science of it far above my head, I feel so small. Were I to simply touch a single one of these tendrils of light, its power would overtake me and my existence on this earth would come to a close. Such power mere kilometres from our heads. My fascination only deepens.

But what of the author of this living artwork I stare at in the sky? What power does He possess? It's unfathomable. He created a plantet, an entire eco system that essentially runs itself. Millions of pieces in His puzzle work together, an ever changing tapestry of art and beauty and life. The largest puzzle in existence, it puts itself together as it pulls itself apart and rearanges itself back together again. A continuous cycle that will never end until He says so. I can only stand in awe and wonder and amazement.

A rain drop on my face snaps me back to reality. The clouds have slowly worked their way here as I stood here, lost in thought. I hightail it back inside as the rain starts to pour down on my head. My wonder at God's power is lost for a moment in my rush to stay dry, but whenever I look up into a storm, whenever lightning crawls its way across the sky, reaching for some unattainable goal, I will always be reminded of God's power.

If only the storm would not end.