With tomorrow’s predicted high at ninety and Saturday night’s low expected in the thirties, it’s no wonder that we hear a bit of thunder this morning. You can’t drag mid-summer temperatures into October without getting a bit of a ruckus, I guess. Sometimes a little bit of one season dropped into another can be downright refreshing and pleasant. Other times, it can be just upwrong disastrous.
Like the moods of an aggressive bipolar bear, extremes seldom make for a good combination. When a roiling mass of hot, moist air collides with the stern edge of a powerful cold front, trouble comes.
For today, we’re hoping that we’ll have nothing more than a thunderstorm or two. In fact, given our druthers, I think the only folks in this neck of the woods wanting rain would be the three or eight of us needing to sow grass seed. A half-inch of so of slow rain would sure make working the ground go much better in another couple of days. I suspect that the farmers with their miles of rows of corn and soybeans would just as soon have another three or four weeks with no rain at all.
Whether they’re thinking of re-seeding a small section of the yard or of harvesting a trainload of grain, I’m pretty sure that just about everybody in Doniphan County, Kansas, has something for which to be grateful. Flash flooding hasn’t destroyed half the bridges in the county, no tornado has leveled half a community, and there’s not a possum’s chance on blacktop of a hurricane blowing through tomorrow.
I’m sure there’s plenty else about which to fret and fidget and some of it is serious enough to drive even a stubborn heart to prayer. But worrying won’t make one whit of difference in the situation, only in the worrier. Sometimes the point of prayer is to change the circumstances, to turn the storm or bend the breaks. Sometimes, though, it’s about making us stronger or gaining more grace. Running the rapids in a strong raft is better than building a dam at every bend of the river.