The Storm

I watched the firework display of God's storm last night. It was amazing--the flash of lightning, the smell of rain, the magestic roll of thunder...just to consider the hand of God. And yes, it resulted in the flooding of a few of the houses and the new dorm, but it was still phonomenal. Reminded me of another storm...

The lonely moon dominated the heavens as the primary source of light, granting recognition with its gentle touch of pale luminosity, and splashing its image against the black ink of the sea. The only sound was the smooth motion of the oars churning the surface of the water, interrupted by an occasional ringing as the rain joined the sea in the light drizzle. This backdrop seemed routine, setting the mood for the experienced fishermen; yet tonight was different. Tonight the Messiah shared their boat. He slept peacefully, rocked by the placid waves.
Without warning, the serene night betrayed them, forcing the calm from each man’s heart. A fist of clouds slammed against the tranquil sky, striking it into a blackened mass. The waves responded to the wind’s aggression with angry claws that tore through the sea, scratching against the tiny boat. The vessel was caught in the grip of the waters, torn back and forth between the wind and sea. A mighty wave pounded the waters, sending a gush of saltwater spraying into the sky. It mingled with the rain before whipping against the face of each fisherman, yet still their Lord slept. Lightning signed the sky like a death warrant, its finality declared by a thundering voice. Panic possessed the minds of even the bravest fisherman as the mighty forces battled on. A desperate cry sounded from one man’s throat. Frantically, another sought to arouse the sleeping Master. Christ calmly stood to His feet. Eyes of terror were directed towards Him as He gazed out over the rolling clouds, the slicing waves, and the trembling men.
Then He spoke. “Peace.”

How's that for reviving an old Comp. 1 paper?