We were not able to record the sermon from Jeff Vaughn this morning, but Valley Scharping shared the following poem he composed based on the sermon and the scripture passage.

FEARSOME WHISPER
Thou knowest naught, thou crashing wind,
Naught of all but what He sends
To, mindless, mountain tear and rend
And ancient Torah stone to bend.
This hurricane and zephyr blend
Will to prophet hearts extend
Terror-promises to fend
And tend ’til whisper at the end.
Dejection shills appalling choice:
A cave to hide, an ill thrall’s boist…

Roarest fain, thou quake of Earth!
From darkest deep, thou shakest mirth!
But to ears and legs ’tis dearth,
Stirring every soul of worth
To trust not power in his girth
And God recall from weakest birth.
But if you lay, it will maul—poised—:
Despair, on you, will brawl foist!

Not a column now, such fire
For were it so, it’d be a liar:
Containeth not creation’s Sire
This grand display of Heaven’s pyre!
It burneth all and does not tire
To show man what is truly dire—
Not Jezebel, but godless mire—
To lead son back with sulfur lyre.
In comfort copy chill Fall, moist,
But cowering proves a swill-of-gall choice.

You fear sound and fury,
Queen and fire flurry!
But have they any prescience
To so exalt their essence?
No eternal puissance
To found their ill malfeasance?
Or sanctified omnipotence
To so assign them dominance?
You run in acquiescence
But they have not His presence.

You will hear Him; hold ’til vesper.
He is in the quiet whisper.
God will fill us all. Rejoice!
He is in the still, small voice.