366. If an apple blossom or a ripe apple could tell its own story, it would be, still more than its own, the story of the sunshine that smiled upon it, of the winds that whispered to it, of the birds that sang around it, of the storms that visited it, and of the motherly tree that held it and fed it until its petals were unfolded and its form developed. ~Lucy Larcom

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Potentially violent thunderstorms began to move in over us from the western and southwestern counties this afternoon. As they did, the normally busy birds disappeared first, and then the dogs began to bark up and down the alleyway. Before the rain started to fall, the sky darkened considerably, and we could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. At that point the innocents in the garden seemed stiffly poised as if to brace themselves against the nasty, threatening storms that carried with them the threat of hail and/or tornadoes. Neither they nor I had long to wait however because soon the heavens opened up, and rain began to pour down harder than it has in years. With the rain legions of lightning bolts filled the skies; at one point TV reports said our area had had 2000 lightning strikes during a 15 minute period. Talk about the potential for violent storms!  Now other than hearing water continue to drip from the gutters and thunder growl occasionally in the distance, the storms seem to have passed unless of course they build again as the evening progresses, and that they well could do. For such is life on the Texas prairies in May, but in the midst of a decade long drought me and the peach trees can’t help but sing praises to the Lord for today’s blessing of abundant rain. At the same time I’ve lived here long enough to be prudently praying that we continue to be sheltered from the nastiness that a tempest like this could yet spawn.

I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm. ~Psalm 55:8  ✝

Thank you, Lord Jesus, that you save, you heal, you restore, and you reveal Your Father’s heart to us! You have captured me with grace and I’m caught in Your infinite embrace!

** Image via Pinterest.

20 thoughts on “366. If an apple blossom or a ripe apple could tell its own story, it would be, still more than its own, the story of the sunshine that smiled upon it, of the winds that whispered to it, of the birds that sang around it, of the storms that visited it, and of the motherly tree that held it and fed it until its petals were unfolded and its form developed. ~Lucy Larcom

  1. Pingback: 366. If an apple blossom or a ripe apple could tell its own story, it would be, still more than its own, the story of the sunshine that smiled upon it, of the winds that whispered to it, of the birds that sang around it, of the storms that visited it, and

  2. Glad you are safe! I usually don’t mind the storms–I enjoy the dramatic, but I always pray for safety! I hope your peach trees make good use of the moisture and bear some juicy peaches later this year! Blessings ~ Laura

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    • Oh, I love storms, Laura. They are very dramatic, but I do hope I never have to live through a tornado or hurricane or such. That would be a tad more dramatic than I’d like. Hugs, Natalie 🙂

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  3. Wow, Natalie. Scary for a while there, eh? Glad it’s passed. We’re expecting rain all week, starting this evening. Remarkable how it happens – – the air suddenly got cooler, and the skies gradually darker, and an almost ominous silence. But nothing yet.

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    • It wasn’t as scary as some we’ve had in the past, but the potential was there for sure. Wow, rain all week? That used to happen here once in a while back in the dark ages. I pray none of your storms bring any really bad stuff. Blessings, Natalie 🙂

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  4. I’m reading this as the thunder rumbles here—but I think the rains may miss us this evening—just offer a good bit of bravado. I am not a fan of the lightening—a healthy respect yes, but it scares the crap out of me–too many close calls have sent me scurrying up to the attic checking to make certain nothing had caught fire!
    And now that the tender shoots in the garden are making their presence known, I do pray the rains will not plummet them too badly—oh this most mystical cycle of nature is so magical!
    Blessings and hunker down during those storms–
    julie

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  5. Great read,dear Natalie ! Loved your vivid descriptions and your captivating details as the nasty storm was processing to your place.It was a real blessing for the thirsty earth and the plants.Your photo with the inky clouds and the lightning flash is gorgeous and it nicely depicts the atmosphere all over. Glad you are safe,have a peaceful and creative week , Doda, xxx

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