A long time ago, my two-year-old daughter, Renae, and I were caught in a propane explosion. One of the results of that trauma was that both of us became terrified of loud noises. That included thunder. In trying to help Renae past that fear, I would hold her as we looked outside during a thunderstorm, explaining what made the noise.
She is still not crazy about thunder, but it worked on me. Loud noises may make me jump, but it doesn't raise my hackles or make me crouch and snarl like a cornered cat. It did once in a while right after the accident.
In fact, trying to get her over her fears worked so well that a thunderstorm actually helped me over a rough patch.
Fast forward about thirty years. I won't go into details, but I was extremely anxious for a period of time, fearful and not knowing what to do. I was a Christian by then, but wasn't walking on His paths unless it suited my own convenience.
During one of Phoenix's spectacular lightning and thunder displays, I went outside and sat on the patio, praying and wondering what to do.
Sounds crazy, but it felt like the thunderstorm absorbed my anxiety. The crashing and flashing seemed to pull the fearfulness and tightness out of me. God's peace invaded my soul for the first time in a couple of long, tense months.
I'm not sure what the moral of this story is. I'm not sure why I'm telling it. But I know this: God can use the strangest things to bring us into His peace--if we let Him. The peace that passes understanding.