Storm Perspectives (Part 2)

If you missed Part One of this true story, click here.

My little boy and I were separated by a fingerprint-smudged pane of glass.
This was not promising to be an enjoyable afternoon.




I carried my daughter into the house with me and talked to my little boy.
"Son... why don't you come outside with your sister and me?"
My little boy kept his eyes on the trees waving in the breeze.
"I'm scared! The light-ning and fun-der is loud!"
"They're just loud though. They're not going to hurt you. You're safe on the porch."
"They're loud!"
The large wind chimes outside were starting to bang out a constant, gonging, resounding rhythm. The little ones were plinky-plinky-plinkin' with all their might.
"He's scared, Jess. Let him stay inside," my husband said.
He had been planning to come outside to enjoy the storm with us after he finished his current project, now it looked as if he might have to stay inside with our boy.
Well... so much for having a lovely family experience.
"I want to stay with Daddy!" my son declared. "I'll stay with Daddy!"
I sighed and nodded, then went outside with my daughter again.

We had hardly sat down on the porch swing again before plunking, rattling sounds began to come from the West. Rain was falling on the metal-roofed building beside us. Gradually, it swept over and began spilling onto the porch roof we were sitting under.
My daughter's eyes were huge as she looked all around.
"Do you hear that?" I smilingly told her. "It's rain! See? It's storming!"
She looked at my enthusiastic expression, then twisted her mouth into a big smile.
"Raining?! Storming?!"
"Yes! Isn't that neat?"
She clapped her baby hands and nodded.
The rain fell for a little while, then it settled down to a soft sprinkle.
My husband came out to the porch, holding our boy in his strong arms.
"There you are!" I exuberated. "Look! It's raining!"
"I'm with Daddy!" my little boy declared, peeking at the rain at the same time.
"He's okay as long as he's with you, huh?" I smiled at my husband.
"I guess so..." he replied as he sat down beside me on the swing.
The rattling sound began to come from the West again. The wind started to blow harder.
My daughter abruptly moved from my side to my husband's lap.
Rain swept over the area, a distant boom of thunder rumbled.
"Was that fun-der?!" my boy squeaked.
"That was a little thunder," I told him.
"A little fun-der?"
"A little thunder."
He thought about that a moment, then his whole face brightened.
"Was it... a baby fun-der?"
We all smiled.
"Yes. It was a little, baby thunder."
He liked that idea.
Another bit of thunder rumbled.
"Did you hear that baby thunder?" I asked my boy.
He emphatically nodded.
"I think it's hungry," I confidentially whispered. "It wants its mommy."
Both of my children giggled.
A closer, louder crack of thunder sounded.
My kiddos eyes popped open.
"Was that a biiiig fun-der?!"
"That was a grandpa thunder," I quickly told them. "He just got out of his rocking chair so that he could creep over to the stove to get some cookies."
"Cookies?!"
"He's gained some weight in his old age though, so he's fat, and can't sneak very well anymore."
My husband snorted in amusement.
From then on, every time a crack of thunder sounded, the kids would decide what kind of thunder it was. Soon we had a whole family of thunders.
Everything wasn't so scary anymore.
We talked about the squirrels chattering at each other in the trees, and why there were no birds flying, and how everything was wet, wet, wet because of the rain.
And... eventually... my dream came true. My son wasn't scared of storms anymore. Instead of fear, there was wonder in his wide, grey eyes as he observed the world around him.
After at least an hour, it was time to come inside and take a nap.
The first thing my son did was run to his teenage brother sitting in the house. He danced around while shouting, "Bubba! Bubba! Go outside and see the storm! There's fun-der and light-ning!  It's fun!"

And that, was that. My heart smiles every time I think of it. I have a feeling that the next time it storms around here, the whole Wittman family will be gathered on the porch again, naming each strike of lightning.
It's all about perspective.

Are you going to walk in fear today? Or will you walk in love and wonder?

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love." 1 John 4:18

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