The oyster-gray veil of fog clung to the earth outside my window. The forest beyond the knoll was hidden, the creek babbling along its edge invisible but for its gentle melody of liquid notes stumbling over stones.
But I knew they were there.
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Lord, You are perfect in power, tender in love. You are my God, my Savior, and my Lord. How great Thou art! Oh, how I love to think about Your greatness — may I never forget who You are.
When I consider the heavens and the works of Your hands, I am humbled and overcome with awe. You are magnificent … and yet You call me daughter.
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A ridge of ominous clouds the color of charcoal hung low on the horizon. Heavy with rain. Laden with warm, humid air. Forecasters warned of ferocious winds that would surely howl across our beloved mountains, hurling flooding rains, and toppling trees and power lines in their wake. I sought comfort in the knowledge that God is my refuge.
As I peered out the window toward the setting sun, the wall of clouds darkened, shadowed by the twilight.
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Lord, You are wonderful. Your mercy is great, reaching to the highest mountain and stretching into the deepest valley. I will sing of Your mercy forever, even in the difficult places.
For You are good! You cannot not be good. Your eyes are upon Your children seeking those who need to be encouraged.
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The rushing wind swept through the treetops like the sound of crashing waves, its power witnessed in the bending of branches and the tousling of the leaves. Yet I found myself in stillness. Far below the forest canopy, I walked in a broad patch of sunshine without the slightest breeze.
In fact, I knew the rushing wind was present only because I heard its whistle and saw its effects above me.
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