It was in the springtime and I was speaking at a church in a small town in southeastern Oklahoma. We had a large crowd of people in that small church when the thunder began to roll in the distance. Once the service was over, there was a reception in the fellowship hall.

It was one of those occasions when I was in a hurry to get my car and start home before the thunderstorm dropped its rivers of water. However, since the reception was in my honor, I could not slip out early.

After a short while, the claps of thunder were no longer in the distance. They seemed like they were right over the church, because that little church seemed to rattle and quiver with each thunder roll. One look out the door and we knew that no one was going home in that downpour.

While we were waiting, a woman about 75 ye…