22-30 "Have you ever traveled to where snow is made, seen the vault where hail is stockpiled, The arsenals of hail and snow that I keep in readiness for times of trouble and battle and war? Can you find your way to where lightning is launched, or to the place from which the wind blows? Who do you suppose carves canyons for the downpours of rain, and charts the route of thunderstorms That bring water to unvisited fields, deserts no one ever lays eyes on, Drenching the useless wastelands so they're carpeted with wildflowers and grass? And who do you think is the father of rain and dew, the mother of ice and frost? You don't for a minute imagine these marvels of weather just happen, do you? (Job 38)Almighty God, who carves canyons for the downpours of rain, and charts the route of thunderstorms that bring water to unvisited fields, drenching deserts so that they are carpeted with wildflowers and grass, I honor you not only as the father and mother of the rain, but the giver of life and all good things. With deep gratitude I remember the evening you brought me my third son, named for the rain of your blessings and the storm on that beautiful night. May each feast of his birth be a reminder to him, as it is to me, of all the gifts he has received from you. I don't know what lies ahead for him this year, but I know you hold his future in your hand, and you flood his life with your authority and love. May his ways be pleasing in your sight. May he hear your voice, know your touch, and see your glory in both of us, his parents, who cherish him so much.
