STORMS

Its storms like these which remind me of home the most. Living most of your life in a valley has its moments. Specifically the fact that you don't have to bear the brunt of any storm that passes. You watch it barely touch your town and then, its done. Maybe the river floods and maybe a few things get tossed here and there, but that's it. Life goes on.

I'm living in a swamp these days. And well, storms in a swamp are different. Water rises, the trees are nearly useless, and the rain sleets as the wind tosses it here to fore. It feels unsafe and unlike home. It feels wrong. It feels like I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be in a swamp. I should be in my green valley. Nestled in safety. But I'm here. I'm unsafe.

I watch the storm rage outside the window and it mirrors the insanity in my heart. I am tossed. Leaf-strewn and drenched among copious amounts of heavenly tears. But it is part of what is everything. Without storms, there can never be strength. We will never learn to batten ourselves to the downpour of life's challenges and the sorrows that also rain down from heaven. A little rain must really fall. But my storm has been all too long in its run and rampage. I tire of sitting in the boggy swamp. I miss the sweet, safe, rolling hills of my valley.

I miss home. This is not home. My heart lies not here. There are only storms here. There is only wrath and ruin.