Listening...

It's late as rain rolls off the roof and onto the drive outside our home office window. Eyes closed, I imagine hearing the muffled drums of revolutionary war soldiers marching on to yet another battle. "Blat; blat; rat-tatta-tat-tat-tat."

I hear the "splishing-splashing" of my kids only a few years ago, when they were so young, as evening hours fell in the waning moments of bath time... "Splish... splish...splat!" "Time for bed little ones," would come the call. Nestled, secure, safe and off to dreamland they would go.

Falling harder now... Imagine the rolling of fingers and thumbs on a waiting room side table as the patient sits, awaiting the news from the medical test. The pattern is steady, not loud enough to offend or irritate, but certainly present to all close by. Nervous tension is broken only by the sound itself. Waiting... waiting... what will they say?

A brilliant flash of light... now an instantaneous "crack" as thunder peals across the North Texas sky. No metaphor. No simile. No imagination. The sound is altogether unique.

Is it He who rides the ancient skies above?

"Sing to God, O kingdoms of the earth,
sing praise to the Lord,
to him who rides the ancient skies above,
who thunders with mighty voice."
(Ps. 68:32-33)

Shhhh... listen, now. Listen.

He speaks, but would we be among those who listen?

"Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm...
...Do you have an arm like God's,
and can your voice thunder like his?"
Job. 40:6,9

Listen. Listening...