How I love the wind. On a hot summer day, its gentle, cooling caress across my face.
A Kiss from my ABBA.
Standing in the middle of His open fields, the dark clouds billowing about, circling high above my head. The winds sweeping down, causing the trees and grasses to bow down low before Him. Surrounding me within His whirlwind, useless are my hands in trying to hold my hair from my eyes.
growing the waves to heights unimaginable in the vast open seas, carried to rest on the shores,
His winds, are able to blaze heat across the plains, burning the grasses with the help of His sun.
And then the season of coldness,
turning everything it touches into His sparkling ice.
How all of His Winds, are in His control, even when from our viewpoint they run wild.
Such is our life.
At all times, He is in control. No matter the celebrations, times of rest, circumstances, situations, trials, tribulations.
He is in control.
Knowing He is able to control the winds, to such a point as to "not even rustle a tree".
He is "I AM"