thunder.

as i type this i can hear thunder from a storm rolling through our city.  the last couple days have been filled with storms and rain.

thunder is amazing.  the percussion in the air during a lightning storm is loud and peace-shattering.  when it thunders, the air rumbles through our city shaking dishes, waking dogs to bark, and frightening little children.  thunder is unsettling.  it's forewarning a coming storm.  winds and rain are soon to follow ... and everything just might get messed up.

thunder is an awe-inspiring auditory event that everyone in a community experiences.  you can be blocks away from a friend and both have your home shaken by the rumbling of the thunder as it passes through.

as a middle-schooler i memorized the definition of thunder:

thunder is the result of a rapid expansion of the gas that surrounds the extreme heat of a lightening bolt (up to 28,000 degrees celsius).

 

when i think that Jesus said that He would rather us to be hot or cold (Rev. 3:15), i'm reminded that extreme hot and cold both cause reactions.  thunder is simply a reaction to the extreme heat of a lightening strike.

what kind of reaction is Jesus causing in your life?  if you're not close to the heat, you're not going to have a reaction, and Jesus is the catalyst to the best reactions.  

at times it's good for Jesus to come rumbling through our lives, shaking things up.  most often, that thunder precedes a storm.  thunder is a warning that gets our attention.  we know we must seek shelter when it comes rumbling through.  in the same way, when those shock-waves come rumbling through our lives, we need to seek shelter and return to Jesus through confession and repentance.  

it would change our lives if we could live with this understanding:

jesus is the lightening, and we are the thunder.

so, let's get a little closer to Jesus, and see what kind of reaction He creates in us.

Weeds.

I noticed this past week that my backyard had began to resemble a rainforest with all the rapid, tropical growth that had overtaken the space.  The weeds were getting big.  Seriously, some of them were as big as me.   I stood next to them and wondered if they thought it was odd for me to be as big as them, because I, in turn, was thinking the inverse of them.  

I know the routine: In the fall and early spring you put down a "pre-emergent" insecticide that kills a spectrum of weeds.   Then, when the growing season starts, you put down a "post-emergent" that kills everything else except the grass.  Even though I know the routine, I normally fail to provide the routine maintenance that keeps my yard healthy.  Those few little steps ensure a pretty lawn, and I normally miss them.

Consequently, every year I get surprised by the weeds.  Every year, its the same story: its cold and I'm wearing jackets ... all of a sudden my car turns yellow and my snot turns green ... not too long after that I notice the weeds.  If you don't get on the weeds before they are full grown, they can be a pain.   You have to pull them out, by the roots, because they are much tougher to kill once they start growing.  

It's normally a couple day's of "reclaiming the surrendered ground" before the yard looks like someone actually lives there and the neighbors stop staring at me.

This Saturday I was pulling the weeds, again, and thought about how following Jesus is a lot like this messy routine.  The maintenance of our relationship with Him is simple - talk, listen, and obey.  When we're faithful to that, then it's easy to remain healthy.  The weeds might be there, but they're easy to pull.

Sometimes, though, we go through periods of time when we neglect the simple routine that provides the maintenance we need.  The weeds grow and take root.  Once we realize the weeds are even there, its much too late to just simply pull them out - their roots are deep and their size is imposing.

When we wake up from our slumber, and realize how ragged things have gotten, there is one thing left to do: start pulling.  There are things worth struggling with, toiling over, and getting through.  Perhaps thats what perseverance is all about.  

My backyard is, at the moment, free from gigantic weeds.  If the weeds were inquisitive as to my plan for them, they are inquiring such no more, since they now lay, collectively, in a pile of compost that smells of bad vegetables and coffee grounds. 

Following Jesus should be messy, especially if you're strong enough to pull the weeds.