Her Broken wing

THE STORM DANCER

Storms.

Storms of life.

These storms can cause devastating consequences. Many of these storms are of our own making. Intensity rules and angers flare. After the thunder, there is rain. I see the torrential downpours. And as the rain begins to fade, the sweet-scented smell of rain fill my senses. I can smell the rain. Time passes and surpasses my understanding of what has been and what is to be. Soon, the rain trickles as if playing to the tune of Mozart and I am mesmerized by its tranquilizing effect. I hear the Song that my Heavenly Father is singing to me.

My senses are alive. I can feel.

I breathe—slowly.

I awaken—soon thereafter to a silent world around me after the rain has long stopped. It would take some time before I really would grasp all of the unfolding events of the storm.

The person I had been had died, she had left during the storm—tragically. The death of self was an explosive aftermath. The realization of truth was as explosive as a volcanic eruption from a Volcano that had slept for thousands of years. The pressure was phenomenal.

Good,

Bad,

And just indifferent at times.

Mindful—from a long rainy night, I mused over the details.

I prayed.

Morning came and the Sun peeked in through the window. It was timid and reluctant to reveal itself to me as if one more change might cease my beating heart.

The pain was gone—not that I was ok with my life’s happenings but it was better than it had been in a very long time. I was free. I could breathe.  Psalm 30:5

Would I become another Storm Dancer? Will I rejoice in this new birth?

I will dance in reminiscence of the storm.

I will become the Storm Dancer.

…for I am His beloved child

Living the Supernatural

Connie

This entry was posted on January 31, 2018 at 1:30 am and is filed under Uncategorized with tags Beauty, Forgiveness, Freedom, Hope. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.