Out Our Way: The stormcloud in the sunshine

Psalm 97

Out our way, we sometimes refer to the vast prairies as "Big Sky" or "The Big Open." I recall some national radio personality once ridiculed Montana for those terms. "They have the same sky as everyone else." Then he came for a visit. Sometime later he published his script for all the states whose nicknames he had mocked. His reference to Montana had been left out.  

It is "Big Sky" and "The Big Open" out our way. I love Glacier and Yellowstone, have been many times on the Flathead, and they are spectacular. But nothing says Montana to me like riding over the Tiger Ridge area of the Bear Paws and coming to the northern edge where the land falls away and stretches into Alberta and Saskatchewan.  

One vivid memory was watching a real "gullywasher" from the ridge where Doc and were checking the herd. It was sunshine where we were, but some 60 miles north in Alberta there was a major thunder and lightning storm. I couldn't hear it, but I sure could see it. The dark clouds rolling across the sky and lightning flashes every few seconds. Here in the Big Open you can watch a rain storm while sitting in the sunshine. God does put on quite a show from time to time!

The Psalmist must have experienced a few of those exhibitions from time to time. I have never been to Israel but when running stock was a dominant part of the culture, I suspect some shepherds, like cowhands, got to experience "Big Sky" up close and personal. The description of God's glory and power illustrated with images of the storm clouds, lightning and powerful winds strikes a rancher, farmer or outdoor enthusiast's imagination. To "fear God" is not so much to be afraid, but to be in awe.  

I did not see God in the storm cloud nor in the lightning, but I sensed God in them. I felt a sense of awe in witnessing such majesty and power sweep across the plains. And it did turn my mind to God. There is nothing ordinary in a major storm - and nothing so humbling as realizing how weak and small the most powerful forces of science and engineering are in comparison.    

I sat there on Doc and watched the far off dark clouds roll and saw the fire of heaven flash and fill the sky with light. And I felt very small - very small indeed. Maybe that is why God is depicted from time to time by the Psalmist in the image of the storm. Sort of a wake up call. If mere nature can silence the boaster and humble the proud, how much more so can the Creator of nature and of us?

And in my humble state, my ears are opened as are my eyes and, hopefully, my soul.

Be blessed and be a blessing!

Brother John

--

The Rev. John Bruington is the retired pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Havre. He now lives in Colorado, but continues to write "Out Our Way." He can be reached for comment or dialogue at [email protected].