There are few things that are more spiritual to me than a good ol' fashioned Texas thunderstorm. Even as a child, I don't ever remember being afraid of storms. In fact, when I was in high school and getting ready to head off to A&M, I fully intended to major in meteorology. I love weather and how it develops. It fascinates me. But specifically, I love thunderstorms.
When Ty and I lived out on the west coast, the storms were amazing in a different kind of way. They were majestic, for sure, but they weren't as cleansing and fulfilling for me as a thunderstorm. There's something about seeing the flashes of lightning in the distance and waiting for the storm to approach. The wind picks up, the trees start to talk, and the temperatures begin to gloriously drop. The sky darkens, except for the streaks of light, and all is right in the world.
Big A and I were here tonight on our own -- probably very indicative of many nights to come. I'm embarrassed to admit that I got really choked up about it all and I let it get to me. In fact, I think I was on the verge of a panic attack. But then my friend, the thunderstorm rolled in. Rather than make me nervous, it calmed me. Aidan and I snuggled on the couch and enjoyed the storm as the lights flickered on and off.
I hope I'm teaching him to love these storms and not fear them. They're such a part of who I am, and they comfort me.