I wrote this a couple of years ago:

This morning we have been listening to the rain on our roof, seeing flashes of lightning, and hearing some mighty big thunder. I tried to bring in my patio awing due to the possibility of high winds, but it would not come in. It tried but the rain was coming down so hard and fast that the weight of the water stopped it from moving more than a foot or two. It was quite a storm, one lightning strike lit up the whole sky and made a huge cracking boom.
As I was sitting here, hoping the power doesn't go out, and the wind doesn't do any damage, I had this picture of a man sitting in a cave, by the opening, and looking out at the sky. It’s gray, the rain is falling, and every now and then the sky lights up as the lightning is flashing. The air blowing into the cave is warm and humid. There is a small fire burning just inside the mouth of the cave. The man reaches for a bowl and sits it on a rock next to him. Then he takes a black piece of wood, or charcoal puts it in the bowl, picks up a water skin, and adds a small amount to the bowl. He crushes it all together with his knife handle, adds a bit more water, then picks up a reed, and sharpens it, giving it a very fine point. Then he reaches for a leather satchel. Puts it on his knees. He takes out a roll of something, that looks paper-like. He rolls it out on the satchel like it is his desk. He takes the sharpened reed and dips it into the bowl. He is humming some kind of tune and whispering to himself, or to someone. It’s like he is worshipping. The fire is flickering, casting shadows on the cave wall, the rain is falling still, and there is the sound of thunder, after a flash. I can hear the scratch of his reed on papyrus and the sing-song name Yahweh as he is writing this in his own language:

הִתְגַבֵּר אֶל ה ', יְשָׁמַיִם
ייחס לאדון תהילה ועוצמה.
קבע לה 'את התהילה שבשמו;
לעבוד את ה 'בפאר קדושתו.
קול ה 'מעל המים;
אלוהי התהילה רועמים,
ה 'רועם מעל המים..............

Ascribe to the Lord, you heavenly beings,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness.
The voice of the Lord is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the Lord thunders over the mighty waters.
The voice of the Lord is powerful;
the voice of the Lord is majestic.
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars;
the Lord breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon leap like a calf,
Sirion like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord strikes
with flashes of lightning.
The voice of the Lord shakes the desert;
the Lord shakes the Desert of Kadesh.
The voice of the Lord twists the oaks
and strips the forests bare.
And in his temple all cry, “Glory!”
The Lord sits enthroned over the flood;
the Lord is enthroned as King forever.
The Lord gives strength to his people;
the Lord blesses his people with peace.

Now after seeing this image, this man in a cave who would one day be King of Isreal, the person who wrote Psalm 29, I must remind myself of something. I must remind myself that the flash of lightning, the mighty ocean, winds moving across trees, falling water, and the concussion of thunder, God is behind it all. And all of it should be a reminder of the God of Glory, who is worthy to be praised and worshipped.

Derrick