Through the storm, in fear or awe, as children of God we are assured that He is with us. Praise God!
My heart pounds as I think of this. It trembles within me. Listen carefully to the thunder of God’s voice as it rolls from his mouth. It rolls across the heavens, and his lightning flashes in every direction. Then comes the roaring of the thunder— the tremendous voice of his majesty. He does not restrain it when he speaks. God’s voice is glorious in the thunder. We can’t even imagine the greatness of his power. (Job 37:1-5)
Relate: Istanbul doesn’t get truly great storms. I can’t say that as a universal truth, they do occasionally happen but not nearly with the frequency of New York. While I would take winters here over winters back there in a heartbeat, I do miss the near weekly summertime storms that rattle the windowpanes, set off car alarms, and rip all the dead branches…
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