God is clearing His throat again...

From April to October, it's a common occurrence.

He breathes the monumental clouds; thick, dark, charcoal tinted billows of smoke.

Cumulonimbus formations as large as the Sierra Nevadas catch in His throat in an involuntary Divine inhale.

The peals explode popcorn-like, amplified through a monstrous sound system, reverberating through every corner of my chest, deep down to that space between my ribs in the seat of my soul where I ache before I cry;  where laughs bubble, and where I melt at the sound of grandiose music. The double bass pitch pulsates till my lungs fairly combust, jogging childhood memories of the same sensation while watching a parade pass by: the bass drum-line drowning out my very heartbeat.

Clouds of thunder paint His power, and though He can't be seen, He is distinctly felt.

The electrical storms of this peninsular state were such a novel and awe inspiring event during our first Florida summer.  Daily, all seven of us would sit in a row of lawn chairs in the garage, door up, sheltered from the warm deluge, to view nature's show as if it were a new release DVD or a Hollywood world premier. 

Spider lightening, double bolts, flashes from east to west instantly turning dusk into dawn are quickly followed by the heart-pounding sonic booms. This is entertainment we seldom saw growing up in the temperate climate of Southern California, except for a Big Bear or Idlywild afternoon storm while on vacation.

Certainly the South Florida locals thought us odd as we gawked and shrieked at every atomic clap of the suddenly vocal sky.

Minutes later the grey canopy could turn patchy, precipitation still going strong revealing yet another Florida weather wonder:

Blue Sky Rain.

That's right, sun is shining bright but the curtain of drops still falls heavy.

Sun Showers.

God is like that. Both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.
He is sunshine and clear skies and darkness and mystery concurrently.

He is an adventure to be had, a sight to be seen, a new thing to watch.

I look forward to another season of storms.

And to hearing Him in the thunder.