after the storm

I've learned to expect attacks from Satan as I step up in leadership positions.

As I follow the call God's put on my life.

As I commit to fighting sin and confess secret struggles to my sisters.

As I am more devoted to prayer and reading His Word.

As I am becoming more like Him.

Most of the time, it hurts. And blows to my body that leave bruises just keep knocking me down.

But I will get back up.

I will persist.

Because a fight in honor of my God is worth it.

Because He has the power to heal those bruises.

Because after the storm, there is such an inexplainable calm.

After the rain and the winds and the lightening bolts cease,

     the earth is filled with peace.

I can step outside and encounter the sun reflecting off of the damp blades of grass.

I can see God's promise painted across the sky with more hope in it than a mere pot of gold at the end.

The earth sounds silent in comparison to the roars of thunder and howls of wind,
Leaving room to hear the birds and cicadas as they come out of hiding.

The summer air is cooler and more bearable.

And there's that scent that infiltrates my senses,

The smell of rain and life and summer.

The smell of freedom.