hit me like a bolt of lightning, the highlight of my younger days.
Just a taste of that Holy Spirit
and I never felt the same. Your kind of power God makes the knees
buckle, but then again makes us
strong. Oh God, that burning bush for Moses, surely made him come
along. What about Paul, who was
Saul? Baby, after that flash on the road to Damasc’, testimony
forever changed. What a monster
flash! Da dooby doo dooooo dwee up dwee up up up and away in the
upper room, that place was hop-
pin’, there was no stoppin’ shakin’ nearly every day. Like a bolt
of lightning, You hit me like
a bolt… of lightning. Like a jagged bolt, of lightning… oh oh
a bolt of lightning, Hit me one
time! Whoa woh oh! Weee oh oh mmmm’ oh, hmm, hmm hmm… dweedle
oh, oh! and that’s all.
When you think about it, fog is very sneaky. It’s all passive aggressive with its violence. It isn’t the kind of weather that comes right out and pummels you, somehow. It just creeps in and slowly drops a veil in front of your face. That’s why people who write scary stories use it all the time. As is the case most everywhere, the drive-in-theaters where I live are long gone. The last time I went to one was either shortly before or shortly after I was married. Lori and I went to see… that’s right, you guessed it, “The Fog.” Not a bad flick, and to make it even more creepy, it was actually very foggy that night. It wasn’t foggy enough to obscure our view of the screen, but it did add a sinister ambiance. Mostly, I remember Adrienne Barbeau.
Fog is sometimes a factor in multiple car accidents. Lori remembers a day when she was in 5th grade. The fog was terribly thick and her school was near the freeway. The children started hearing cars skidding and impacting each other, over and over. It went on for some time, and closing the classroom windows didn’t keep the sound from intruding. Now that would be a great time to allow prayer in public schools.
I was with my father late one evening on a tow service call. We were traveling slowly down a steep and narrow mountain road, called the Wildcat. At one point he had me get out and walk ahead of him to verify where the road was. We weren’t that far from home, but that night it might as well have been 100 miles.