At 35,000 feet the thunderstorm looks huge. Your mind is simply not capable of wrapping itself around the fact that the swirling mass of moisture and energy just off your right wing is the size of a small nation. It's so big you feel like you might drag your wingtip through it, even though you're twenty miles away.
It looks so serene from the outside, like a giant marshmellow. Big, white, fluffy, peaceful. We know better. Inside of it, roaring like a wild beast, lies the power to rip your insignificant machine to pieces.
We are so small upon this world, and the awesome power the Lord manifested in a simple thunderstorm is merely the tip of the iceberg.
Lest we forget how truly great he is, or how truly insignificant we are.
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