Whenever thunder grumbles overhead, I think of…
…snuggling safely under a blanket in the sanctuary of my home. I’m reminded of thunderstorms from my childhood when the steamy New York summers would bring flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder. I’m reminded of the unpredictable Floridian storms that seemingly pass through daily during the rainy season. I remember the terrifying storms of April 2011, our first year in Northwest Georgia — and seeing that mountains don’t actually stop tornadoes from forming into horrific disasters. When thunder grumbles overhead, I seek shelter. I seek comfort. I offer comfort to my children, who seem absolutely petrified by thunderstorms. I brace for possibilities, but I also find peace when I’m inside.
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