Pleasantly Disturbed?

My blogger friend Duane Scott, in his pleasantly disturbed fashion has chosen to begin a new carnival link-up titled Pleasantly Disturbed Thursdays.  He asks us to throw together random thoughts that have filled our brains, noting that there is no requirement that the posts make sense.

Being one who can't turn her back on a challenge, here is my entry to this week's randomness.

While I was looking at the clouds Tuesday morning, wishing that the rain would not come, but knowing there was no stopping it, I knew I had to praise God anyway.  Out of the blue, from my lips burst my own version of an old song, and I knew that my spirit was singing to my Lord.

I'm gonna love You, like nobody's loved You, come rain or come shine.
Happy together, in all kinds of weather, now won't that be fine.
Days may be cloudy or sunny, I'm in or I'm out of the money,
But I'll love You always, I'm with You, rain or shine.
You always love me, like nobody's loved me......

And the skies grew darker, thunder rumbled, the wind roared through the trees and the rain pounded down so loudly I kept running to the door to see if it was hail.  Three years ago we had a hail storm in our region that left almost 90% of the homes needing new roofs and siding, softball size pellets with jagged edges tore through whatever was in their way.

I like sunshine, warm breezes, and grass that stops growing so it doesn't need to be cut.

How many mosquitos could a softball sized hailstone crush at one time?  I know.. God created mosquitos, I wrote about that last week.  He also created ants, and over 250,000 different varieties of beetles.  Would you call Him pleasantly disturbed also?  But I will yet praise Him.

I used to be a city girl from the Chicago metro area, one state away from Wisconsin, dairyland USA, where most cows are Holsteins, black and white.  Imagine my surprise upon arriving here to find brown cows, beige cows, solid velvety black cows, cows the colour of cinnamon (would they give cinnamon milk?) and many other pigmentations.  They eat grass and grain and taste really, really good.  If you stop next to field the herd will all turn with the same expression on their faces, as if to say "What do you want from me?  I'm a cow!"

Oh, by the way.. did I tell you, I really, really don't like mosquitos.

Are you disturbed yet?  Is it pleasant?  Come share with us at Duane Scott's where we may not be making any sense at all.