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I've been grumbling because we have been living in the clouds with soggy misty weather for two weeks. Then the sun shone and I smiled not knowing it was cooking up a stormy brew.

The sky darkened, the heavens opened, pelting down hard rain. Hard hail rattled on the tin roof and bounced off the windows.

Minutes later, the vegie farmer was left to lament his damaged crop.

Psalm 147:16-18 (New International Version)

He spreads the snow like wool
and scatters the frost like ashes.

He hurls down his hail like pebbles.
Who can withstand his icy blast?

He sends his word and melts them;
he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.


  1. so sorry for your poor plants.

    He rains on the just and the unjust!

  2. Oh, he is a vengeful God. You might read the pronoun as capitalized.

    Isn't it incredible that a mosaic of detail images can tell more of a story than a landscape essentially showing the same?

  3. Julie, not sure about the vengeful God. Everything has its season ... at church this morning we looked as Ecclesiastes 3:
    1. There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under heaven:
    2 a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
    3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
    4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance ...

    I also learnt that the hail followed a very narrow strip ... only some of us have shredded cucumbers.

  4. Mmm ... now THAT sounds close to being vengeful ...

  5. such a scripture to match the fits...tomorrow is another day


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