As a nor’easter storm blows through our beach town,
I read my sister’s text message:
“Is it awe full there”?
I smile. A God-wink!
(Perhaps angels can playfully tinker with text auto-correct.)
According to the news, dreadful weather was predicted:
Coastal flooding, heavy rain, gale-force winds, unseasonably cool temperatures.
A perfectly awful Memorial Day weekend forecast, it’s true.
The news constantly wants to snag our attention with the awful.
But God is subtler, more light-hearted,
inviting us to notice the awe full.
I reread the message again: “Is it awe full there?”
“Yes!” I respond,
sending along a photo of a neighbor’s lush roses in full bloom, lapping up the rain.
Precious moments from a brisk morning walk in the storm:
Ocean waves crashing onto the abandoned beach,
girls riding their bikes, laughing into the blustery wind,
those delightful peach-colored roses grinning through the downpour.
Imperfectly awe full.
The invitation is always there
to pay closer attention, to broaden perspectives, to appreciate the good,
even—perhaps especially—in life’s storms.
Awful or Awe full?