The wind is insane. It's been blowing crazy powerful for the last two days. It's kinda cool to walk outside and be pushed around by the wind. The constant wishing and whirling and howling of it haunted me through the night, yet it was somehow soothing. Last night as I was walking with my trashbags to the big bin thing, the trashbags were thrust behind me and my pants caught the wind and were almost like the MC Hammer pants that if you jumped off of Taco Bell you would glide to safety but instead acted as sooper air-friction breaks. Along my journey to the great big blue bin of smelly happiness, I could not help but marvel at the Creator for His strangely beautiful and simple wonder. (How can you possibly describe the beauty of a rushing wind?) To think that this is less than the amount of air disturbed by Him wiggling his toes--the wind that blew me this way and that is nothing for Him. Also makes me think of when God appeared to Elijah, when the wind tore apart the mountains and earthquake and fire came, God was not in any of those, but came in a gentle whisper. Then Elijah comes out and covers his face with his cloak in response to this whisper--God is powerful! Veneration for the awesome is easy and His majesty is deafening sometimes leaving me dumb to His beckoning whisper.
Or maybe it was just the wind tossling my hair that created a pensive mood like in the movies.
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