furious

It’s a bit like a rolling storm that should roll faster. It creeps and creeps and creeps. The hustle begins. People gather there things, come off the beach and inside. Families hold their kids dear, trying to clutch the armchairs, and towel bags as well.

The rain begins. I watch from inside our ocean front house, coffee cup in hand, grin on my face, expectation in heart.

I do like those sunny days. Please don’t misunderstand. The sunshine, ocean water, and sandy feet have a special place in my heart. Please don’t misunderstand. I long for those hot days frequently. It’s just that… I also long for a good storm.

The expectation grows and grows. The creeping continues. Why does my heart long for such a thing? Why do so many enjoy a storm? Is it the power, the awe, the smallness we feel? Perhaps.

Perhaps it’s also because we are dry. Dry and sick of sipping. Dry and tired of pulling up the bucket. Dry and weary of going to the faucet. Dry and desiring.

The creeping continues and the desire burns more. It’s then the questions are whispered and the answers are creeping. The answers creeps along with the storm. Until. Until, it pours. The creeping stops and so do our questions. In the middle of this storm, we do little but answer, yes. Yes, this is why my heart longs for them. Yes. Words seem to slip and for some reason the slipping is O.K.

In the middle of God’s love, in the middle of total surrender to his furious and powerful love, we simply offer a yes. A yes, to His grace. A yes, to His power. A yes, to all He was, is, and will be. We long to simply answer. We long to be called.

In our rooms, and in our work; in our days, in our weeks, months, and years; God calls. God brings a love so deep, and furious, that we can with a bit of a tremble, cry yes.

Our heart longs to be surrounded by His fury. Our heart longs to say, yes.

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