In May one of the latest snowfalls on record brought heavy snow to already leaved-out trees, snapping large branches and whole trees. Clean up crews had work for weeks.
Then the thunderstorms began. They follow a usual pattern—morning starts out sunny, soon a few puffy clouds peep up behind Pike’s Peak. These grow and multiply and seem to march across the sky in rank after ever bigger rank. Other times they produce streamers that seem to pull bigger clouds along behind them.
By 1 or 2PM thunder rumbles closer, rain begins and lightning flashes. Hail pounds on the roof and punches holes in leaves. Bigger hail recently stripped the leaves right off plants. Water pours off the hill behind us and into the street where it deepens and finally swirls into the big storm drains.
Not an unusual summer pattern for the Front Range, and good for reservoirs and fewer fires, but like everything else weatherwise this year it’s gone on longer than usual, and bushes look bedraggled and sad.
I wondered if they could possibly recover before frosts that are just a couple months away.
Storms come into all our lives at various times and often we just see the dark clouds and listen only to the threatening thunder. The rain and the hail seem to take over and blot out all else. But even in the midst of such storms, our heavenly Father is there to love us, encourage us, and grow us in ways that we only see when we look closely.
When difficult times come, do you, like me with my butterfly bush, just see the destruction and fail to look closely to see how God encourages and grows us through those times?