As a small child, I had no fear of thunderstorms. My mom told us kids that it was God rearranging furniture or bowling.
We were taught to anticipate the change in the weather, lean into the shifts we felt were brewing. Be prepared for whatever arrived into our lives and space.
When the sky began its descent into darkness, we got into position. We opened windows, secured the pets and took our places on the front porch.
What a sight to see, five children standing guard to feel the power of the storm.
Some of us sat on chairs, the others on the cement stairs. Me? I was climbing the wrought iron railing to get as close as possible.
Why would we do this?
We knew that with every storm came a sense of calm. A cleansing of our souls, home, and energy desperately needed.
We understood that after the heavens open up the sun shines a little brighter. People smile a bit broader. Heavy energy dissolves .
The smell of an impending storm still causes me to run to my sun porch. I wait for the cleaning that's coming. The feeling of freshness, renewal, and peace.
After the storm comes the sun. With the sun comes peace.