I Have Huge Power

Master and I have become fierce walkers. Our daily routine now includes a 4-1/4 mile walk that takes us just under an hour and a half to complete. We've walked in the blazing heat, and we've walked in the middle of the night (if we finish a ninety-minute walk at twenty minutes past midnight, for which day should we count it?)

With my return to a schedule that more closely resembles my school-year routine, our options for walking narrow considerably. Waking up at 3:30 in the morning to be able to walk before work just doesn't appeal to either of us. As we are full into the typical heat and humidity of August in Cincinnati, our preference is to avoid the sunny parts of the day. That leaves us walking after the sun goes down in the evening. Most nights, that means that we are heading out at about 9:30 PM.

Last night, as we took off for our evening jaunt, it became very clear that we were walking off into a dark and stormy night. Heavy clouds made the dark sky even darker except when the blackness was split by ferocious forks of lightning. Master's comment, as we completed the first 200 yards or so was that we'd likely end up being caught in a downpour before we finished the first lap.

Some years ago, I discovered that I have a facility for weather witching. I've never practiced it formally, and I do not try to influence the weather on some sort of schedule, so I cannot (as far as I know) make shifts that will guarantee that your family picnic won't get rained out -- unless I happen to be there. I can fairly reliably "push storms around" enough to keep them away or shift their path so that they miss the place where I am. I don't do it very often. I am cautious about messing with forces I don't really understand. Still, over the years, I've moved storms in order to keep a friend's wedding in the park dry; I've pushed storms away from the playground at recess. I can't explain exactly how it works. It is, I think, about directing energy with my intent. My logical mind refuses to discuss it, and the witchy part of me is perfectly OK with that, because feeling it happen is just such a rush.

But... I haven't pushed on the weather in a good long while. I didn't consciously decide to quit doing it, but I have let the impulse to control that part of my environment drift away from my awareness.

Last night, as we walked into the crashing storm, He said, "don't you know how to stop this weather?"

I was surprised; surprised that He was willing to consider the possibility; surprised that He remembered it in the first place; completely surprised by the whole idea. I was also uncertain. It has been a number of years since I even tried to intervene in the patterns of the weather around me. This storm was fully upon us; not somewhere off in the distance; I felt like I needed more time. The weather pattern that was giving us such trouble last night was BIG. There were no visible breaks, gaps, or edges. From horizon to horizon, the sky was one giant brooding, swirling tempest. Witching, for me, usually consists of moving the storm away and into some "open" sky. Last night, there was no open sky that I could see.

I hesitated. I demurred for a few minutes. I made excuses, and tried to explain why it was just completely impossible.

He was having none of that. "If you don't do it, we're going to get very wet." There is a certain sound that He can make that tells me the discussion is over with. Hearing it, I put all the doubts aside, forgot how rusty my skills might be, and simply focused on the wild sky above us.

It didn't happen quickly, but as we walked, the almost certain threat of a drenching and violent storm eased; the lightning subsided and the rising wind dropped off to a mere breeze. The sky above us lost the blackness of heavy cloud cover, and here and there, a pale star appeared.

I am one powerful woman I guess. It is a power that I happily put at His service.

swan