Growing up in Missouri I remember the storms. Bold and loud and grand. A lightning storm can be as good as fireworks, and a deluge of rain thrills you even as it drenches you to the skin.
But the ominous green sky of a tornado watch has a different feel. When the radio crackles with tornado warnings, you start thinking of the storm cellar you don’t have or the loved ones who aren’t near you and wonder just how rough it could get. Chances are, the tornado will pass you by. But you never know. And that uncertainty keeps you scanning the skies, unable to relax.
Tonight I know that feeling.
I don’t understand the people who chase twisters- who want to be in the thick of it, documenting the wildness of it all. That’s so beyond my comfort zone. But this evening, comfy or not, we’re chasing storms, wondering if we’ll get just a little wind. Or a big one.
As much as I wish we were home with our family instead of waiting for a storm, I am grateful to see the equipment studding this room like clunky, expensive jewelry. I am even more grateful to know the One who rules the storm.