That Sunday, everything felt alive — the rain, the thunder, even the quiet pauses between them. I woke up with prayer in my heart and peace on my mind, and somehow the whole day followed that rhythm.
The morning opened with stillness and worship, and by the afternoon, the skies had cleared just long enough for a simple act of kindness — feeding the ducks. The air was fresh, the world washed clean, and even the birds seemed to hum with contentment.
Moments later, as I came home, the thunder rolled again — as though heaven waited until I was safely back before resuming its music. It felt like a conversation with God: a pause for kindness, then a promise of blessing.
Rain poured, but not as chaos — as confirmation. It was as if He was saying, “I see you, I’m here, and I’m pleased.”
Tonight, I rest grateful.
For presence.
For peace.
For every sound that reminded me of His closeness — the rain, the ducks, the thunder, the stillness.
“Heaven’s heartbeat is steady — even when the skies rumble, grace remains constant.” 🌹