Last night we had hail.
Oh, not the hail of my youth that I always associate with hail, a sort of small pelletized version of rain that pattered on the roof and we would pretend was snow. No, this was larger sized hail - grape or bubble gum ball sized.
There was no gentle patter on the roof as the hail fell; instead, it sounded much more like a series of small explosions that were going off on top of the house. Hitting the ground it sound like rocks hitting the ground and falling apart. It went for 5 minutes or so and then slowly went away, to be replaced by the sounds of rain falling on the roof and the thunder marching off into the distance as the thunder cloud moved on.
To look outside this morning is to see nothing of what sounded like an intense peppering attack: perhaps a few branches down, a driveway covered in leaves, a hanging bank of clouds the reminder that we perhaps still really do live in the time of not-quite-spring.
The amazing thing as I consider it is that it stands (again) as a reminder of the sheer force and power of a God who can make such things - and how we so often fool ourselves that we are in control of all that which is around us. For all that we have done, we cannot generate hail with our own hands or even prevent the it from coming.