Beauty lies in the heart of the storm.
Thunder rolls through cloud stained sky and resonates through my very core. It is breath taking. How could beauty be found in something so terrible and yet there it is, beauty in the heart of the storm? It is power that provokes both fear and awe. What mind it must take to think up something of such terrible beauty? What power there is in the hand that could craft such a thing that can shake the very earth and illuminate the night sky? That is my God. He spoke and it was. He crafted me with the same hands that made the beauty of the storm. I am wonderfully made to outshine even that which makes mouths drop in awe and minds spin at the depth of its power and might. My God is an awesome, powerful, creative, loving God who saw fit to breath breathe into my lounges and place me in a world that is imbued with his power and majesty that I may know who my creator is and walk amongst his wonders. To feel the rain on my outstretched arms, the thunder ripple through my body, the crackle in the air and the flash from the strike of lightning, this is wonder, this is awe, this is my God.