The runners were at the Woods this morning. They are ready for June to arrive. We have lived in the New House for over 25 years. It seems like yesterday. Folks are fishing at the pond. Their voices are exuberant. We love water. The clouds promise Storm. The peel of thunder and the brilliance of lightning. Storm is a fact of life in Southern Illinois. I have never known life without it. So it goes with our journey. Storm is part of the deal.

We sail on mirror water until we do not. I often told MJ that we should enjoy each year as it may be the best of our our lives. Earl often ran from Storm. He instructed me to grab Cheetah and run for the car. Earl being an adult and a lineman for the county I assumed he must know best. Upon reflection I am not sure. We drove in one of Earl’s vintage cars as Cheetah a Chiwahwa sat in the back. I was suddenly her friend on Storm Patrol. Earl rolled down his drivers side window and gazed into the dark sky. I knew he must be seeing something that I did not. Finally we returned home. We had evaded Storm again.

Storm seeks us in many avenues. It searches our weak points our fears and phobias. We want to be aligned with God’s cause if only we knew what it was. There is a ready supply of people who tell us they are authorized to speak for God in his absence. We think they must know what they are talking about with their irrational exuberence. Follow Me they say and I will make you fishers of men. How did they gain this elite position. Did it come to them in the night? Did they go to Theology School? Can they see through the Storm like Earl? Did they wake up and conclude God wanted them to preach? The Storm rages on.

We seek him here we seek him there we seek him everywhere. Perhaps prayer and rationale thinking are the key.

‘That was a bad storm last night’ Billy B said. ‘I thought I was going to have to go for the ditch but it was full of water,’Billy B continued. ‘I have been searching for a Preacher who is not afraid to disagree with the politically powerful,’ Bill B noted. ‘A Preacher who speaks Christ’s words regarding the stranger in our land the poor and those with no voice,’ Billy B said with tears in his eyes. ‘Someone who seeks neither fame or power,’ Billy B whispered. ‘Chet told me of a Preacher in the Woods who speaks to a small group of people,’ Bill B explained. ‘You do not see him on TV nor read of him on Facebook,’ Billy B offered. ‘His words are prohibited by the President and the elite in power,’ Billy B said softly.

‘He is timeless, ‘Jane said. ‘He speaks with no fear or favor all are welcome,’ Jane continued. ‘The Preacher speaks of the Poor of the Land,’ Jane said. ‘He eats honeysuckel and wild berries and sleeps on a stone pillow,’ Jane said with a faint smile. ‘His ministry has flown under the radar but is spreading by word of mouth, Jane continued. ‘Those who help him wear the clothes of the bluecollar worker and have little money,’ Jane noted. ‘He said the other day that in him father’s house are many mansions but I saw no evidence of such a claim. ‘The Preacher told us to hide with him from the Storm as soon all will be revealed,’ Jane smiled. ‘Treat your neighbor as you want to be treated don’t listen to false prophets and love each other,’ Jane said.

‘I have not heard a lounder crack of thunder,’Chet exclaimed! ‘The lightning lit up the night sky like it was noon,’ Chet continued. ‘On Wall Street in Manhattan people are dancig around the golden bull in a manic state,’ Chet noted. ‘The Stockmarket keeps rising people are rich beyond their wildest dreams,’ Chet said. They have erected a golden statue of President Trump and many are falling on their knees to worship it,’Chet cried.