on lightning without thunder

The first rainstorm in weeks (months?) hit my little corner of the Midwest on Saturday night. I woke up at 3 am to flashing lights outside every window. No booming thunder, simply beams of flashing lightning bolts. But without the subsequent thunder, the light’s origin left me confounded.

And so I began my quest. Out of bed and on my feet, I wandered around to each window. Has to be a police car, I said. Or strobe lights? Faulty middle-of-the-night logic at play, I just couldn’t figure it out.

Rain continued to pour, and the thunder arrived with 4 am. But at the moment, it all seemed off. Without all the puzzle pieces, I couldn’t grasp the full picture.

And so it goes with our walk of faith and walks of life sometimes, and mine these days. Sometimes we don’t see the whole picture and so what’s happening now feels bewildering and baffling and just completely ridiculous.

Like the lightning without the thunder, incomprehensible. We wonder why, wonder how, wonder if. We frantically wonder what in this world is coming next.

What we need to grip our life around, in these moments: We’re seeing a fraction, a slice, a small bit of the picture.

This, too, is part of God’s will. This, in its totally-yucky, both over and under-whelming-ness, this chaos . . . this is part of what someone far wiser and far stronger put into play.

We are far stronger than we think. (He’s made us that way). And in moments of doubt, we can face confusion knowing we’re equipped to handle it.

Like lightning without thunder, tears without immediate resolution can shake us. In these moments, it’s an act of faith to fold our hands. In these moments, it’s an act of faith to cower from the world because we are weak but He is strong.

It’s an act of faith to see the lightning and trust that the sweet rumble of bold thunder isn’t far behind.

(Image via.)

Linking up with Playdates at the Wellspring and Soli Deo Gloria today.


5 thoughts on “on lightning without thunder

  1. Sarah, love this.

    “This, too, is part of God’s will. This, in its totally-yucky, both over and under-whelming-ness, this chaos . . . this is part of what someone far wiser and far stronger put into play.”

  2. Oh, how funny that I would stumble upon your blog via SDG today. We live in the midwest as well and lived through a crazy storm Sunday morning. I went into my youngest babe’s room (he’s four) because I knew he would be petrified – he is deathly afraid of thunder and it was loud. He asked why there had to be thunder and lightening with rain and I answered that sometimes the good stuff (because we’ve been in such a drought our kids know that we are wanting rain!) comes along with some stuff we have to endure. It stopped me immediately because once again, God was using the questions asked by my children to teach ME. So good – thank you for sharing it.

  3. I’ve had a few of these moments recently. Focus on the small, losing faith in the big. It’s a constant struggle of letting go and holding fast to what I know is true. He has me in the palm of His hand. He has you too. That’s really all that matters isn’t it? Thanks for this sacred echo today Sarah, you’re such a beauty.

  4. Sarah, thanks for sharing this post. I am really struggling lately about my next career path move. I have been such a prayer warrior, but am still feeling as though I don’t have an answer. But I know the Lord is testing my patience and I have total and complete trust and faith in Him that he will see me through this and lead me to where He wants me. It’s so incredibly hard to push away my wants and focus on what He wants for me though. I want instant gratification! He knows best, as always.

    Praying your storm ends soon and you will get some resoultion. XXOO


  5. Pingback: what moving taught me about provision (notes on a move) « inspiration-driven life

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