My daughter and I were just about to finish our run yesterday evening when there came the low rumble of thunder from off in the distant. Dark storm clouds had been brewing and rain was falling off and on all throughout the day, so we had caught an opportunity to get a couple miles in before the next downpour began. I thought about our safety and knew that if there was thunder, then somewhere there was lightning. It was this thought that made me hear the words again, “Would you please pass the corn,” ring in my ears once more.
It was nearly forty years ago when we had been gathered at my paternal grandparent’s house for an afternoon dinner and were all gathered around the table. My grandparents didn’t have a fancy dining room, rather the large extended table sat in the kitchen, just an arms length away from the sink. Rain had been falling off and on throughout the day, much like yesterday, so we had decided to make it an afternoon spent indoors. The windows and doors were open as the sweet smell of grandma’s garden just outside the kitchen window wafted fragrances of ripening vegetables that would soon bless our table. Grace had just been performed and the passing of the food around the table had begun. Someone had missed out on the corn and obviously didn’t want to lose any ground so they asked out loud, “Would you please pass the c…?” Before they got the whole word out, there came a blast from above that shook the house, rang our ears and lit up the room all simultaneously.
Somewhat stunned we sat in awe of the power of God.
Before anyone could speak, my two female cousins who had been sitting a few feet away in the front room, came running into the kitchen telling us they had been hit by a blue ball of light that came out of the T.V. They had been watching the television when the lightning struck. They excitedly described that when it blew out the T.V., there came a ball of blue light rolling out of the set, directly toward them. Someone tried to rest their fears by saying it was probably like when someone took your picture and you would still see that bright light in your eyes for a short time afterward. They both adamantly denied this and once again reiterated the blue ball scene. They went on to tell us that the younger cousin had been sitting on the lap of the other and how the ball came straight for them and then passed through their stomachs. We all shook our heads in disbelief but disdained from further questioning in honor of their sanity. Years later, I would learn of this phenomenon known as “St. Elmo’s Fire” and how pilots would often see this happen in aircraft that would take a direct lighting strike while in flight. Often times, the blue ball would dance around the cockpit before finding a ground source to dissipate into. That day, however, we simply disbelievingly questioned the description of those who experienced the event.
The blue ball story had barely ended when someone returned from the front porch and exclaimed to all, “You ought to see the mess on the front porch.” We all leapt from our seats around the table and crowded around the front door, peering out into the scene before us. Thankfully nobody had been sitting outside when the bolt hit. Just a few feet off the front porch stood a giant majestic Sycamore tree. The side of the tree facing the house was now bare and the bark from it had been blasted all over the porch and surrounding yard. Upon further inspection, one of my uncles who had examined the house for any signs of damage explained how one of the guide wires from the T.V. antennae that stood next to the house was grounded to the Sycamore, which was probably one of the reasons it had been hit. Amazed and still somewhat in shock, we slowly made our way back to the kitchen table where our meal still sat, frozen in time, as if on pause. After everyone had made it back, we began in unison to continue where we left off. However, before getting very far someone speculated, as all had heard, that we shouldn’t ask for the, “Shhh,” someone said, “Don’t repeat it, we might take another hit and this one might be worse.” Then a discussion began about was it “corn” or was it “squash” that did it. The final consensus was the “corn” did it. So for the rest of the meal, just to be safe, we asked, “Would you please pass that,” and then would point to the appropriate dish even though corn was very touchy at that point.
While the meal resumed where it had left off, the rain began to come down again and the streams of droplets poured in tiny waterfalls. It added a tranquil sound to the talk around the table where we sat and ate fresh vegetables and other dishes grown or raised on the farm. Unlike today, we were in touch with the world around us, either feeling its effects through the atmosphere or by ingesting the food created therein.
Yesterday, after we finished our run, we took time to cool down, taking off our shoes and socks, letting our feet breathe before finally going inside to shower in the air-conditioned house. Nowadays, with all the windows shut tight and the man-made climate, we are losing touch with our world. The long hot summer days giving way to the cool crisp days of autumn have less significance. On the farm, back in those days with open windows, the summer months were hot even in the shadowed confines of the ancient home, so we moved a little slower, but the fall brought a new time; harvesting and gathering. With the change in season, we began to prepare for the cold winter months. Today in our, “have it now” world, we take less time in preparation from one season to the next. The only similarity is winter, where we are once again confined to the warmth of indoors.
The farther we move away from our connection to the earth, the farther we move away from who we are. Those who control our world would do well to step back in time and live for a short time outside of the man-made world. Maybe then their decisions would have little more foresight into what is truly important.
Today as I sit here writing the rain drops are falling on the skylights above me.
I thank God for rain and thunderstorms for they give us time to pause and reflect on life and days gone by.
