Storm of all storms

I must say I love to be on the coast in the northwest during a good storm. The sound of the ocean crashing against the sand combined with the rain on the roof and windows, and the shouting of the wind is phenomenal. It’s a cleansing of the air and, in my experience, cannot be experienced elsewhere.

Early on in our relationship, Mike and I were blessed to spend a Thanksgiving weekend at the Stephanie Inn on Cannon Beach. We had a ground floor, beach side room. We could open our sliding glass door, walk a few feet across immaculately groomed grass, and step out on the sand. Our gaze was immediately captured by Haystack Rock, just a bit north of the inn, and the expanse of beautiful Oregon coastline.

One evening a storm arrived just before dark. We had been out walking and could feel the change in air pressure and the increasing fierceness of the wind. We hurried back to our room and as we were hanging up our coats and hats the sky opened with a roar the likes I had never heard before or since. The rain came in a deluge!

In my imagination it must have been similar to when God opened the sky for the first time. The first fat drops of water splash on your shoulder and suddenly you are soaked. It had never rained prior to the flood so Noah’s warnings of a flood fell on deaf ears. Rain? What are you talking about?

You  might be asking: So how then was the earth watered? The earth was much different then. Substantially moister, a cloud cover that did not allow sunburn, underground water, multitudes of clean rivers and oceans all worked together to create fertile ground for crops, herds, and a friendly environment for people. God had created the perfect ecosystem for His creations.

The people must have first been in awe of the rain. Maybe they even danced in it and let it land on their tongues. But then the rain became hard, slashing through the air drenching everything. They must have run to their homes for shelter but the waters rose, coming into their homes swirling around their ankles, knees, and chests.

I can only imagine their panic.

The words of Noah must have resonated in the minds of some. Those who were able to make it to the arc must have pounded and begged for the doors to be opened to them that they might be saved. Even if Noah had wanted to open to the doors, he couldn’t have. God had shut the doors of the arc. The sound of the rain may have deafened him to the desperate cries of the people for salvation.

Every living thing that had walked upon the face of the earth was killed in flood. Nothing survived but that which was on the arc. Once the flood waters receded and the doors opened, God placed a rainbow in the sky as his promise that he would never again flood the earth.

We watched the slashing, driving, and pouring rain. We listened to the roar and crash of the waves from the safety of our room at the edge of the beach and were reminded of God’s awesome power. The storm slowly ended as the  new day dawned, a peace decended on the beach like none I have seen. The air was crisp and clear, the wind calm, and the sky bright. Such a contrast to the night before! Next time you watch a storm and see the peace that comes after, I pray you see the Creator!


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