There’s a phenomenon that teachers and carers of children apparently recognise and dread—the impact of a windy day on the behaviour of their young charges.
For some reason—and there doesn’t appear to be a definitive explanation for this—when it’s a windy day children seem to go a little stir-crazy.
I’m not a teacher, but I have certainly developed a negative reaction to windy weather, and I’m sure it’s because of the house we now live in.
Our home is in a street lined on both sides with giant trees. They spread a beautiful canopy of protection from the sun and heat during summer and give our neighbourhood a picturesque setting—and then autumn comes.
The leaves go from lush green to dry brown in what seems like half a day and then fall to the ground. It feels like every leaf from the 40 trees in our street finds its way to our front yard.
No-one can sneak past because the crunching underfoot gives their presence away immediately. Our yard is never leaf-free because there are so many falling so often that we simply can’t keep up with getting them all into the fortnightly green waste-bin collection.
When I hear the forecast for a blustery day, or hear the trees rustling in the breeze at night, I groan, knowing the impact on our yard and the extra gardening time it means.
As a child I was taught that God is like the wind.
You can’t see the wind, but you can certainly identify where it has been by observing the impact it has had. You can’t touch the wind, but you can feel it on your skin and you can hear it in the trees.
God is like that. While we can’t physically see him, we can feel his presence with us, we can hear him speaking through others and we can see where he has been at work in the lives of people.
“The wind blows all around us as if it has a will of its own; we feel and hear it, but we do not understand where it has come from or where it will end up. Life in the spirit is as if it were the wind of God” (John chapter 3, verses 8-9).
Be ready to feel an encounter with God.