It goes something like this:
Over time, I could feel the pressure building deep within. Think of me as a pressure cooker breaking down what lies inside. The process is like making cooked beans, hot soup, or a roast for eating pleasure. So it is with me. All natural laws are at play.
The release came with a jolt this time, rather than the rolling rumble like waves crashing onto the shoreline. A burp of the earth, if you will. Imagine the Earth like a tummy that can’t release its trapped air. It has nowhere to go and builds up pressure until it finally escapes. One way or another, it has to go somewhere. That scenario is similar to mine.
The jolt was sudden and violent, far more severe than I had expected—a shift deep within me rumbling to my surface. Bits of water from my outer layer seeped into the cracks and crevices of my being, not to cool—no chance of that. Simultaneously, I lurched, creating the inevitable wave, no more than the twitch of a muscle or a spasm in a human body. Everything was set in motion all at once. As I said before, it’s natural law at work.
I could sense the movement above, the disruption, and displeasure at me and my nature. Blame, shock, terror, pleading prayers being sent in short gasps, only to be cut short by falling objects, collapsing bridges, and crushed cars, just to name a few final moments for some lives. Souls taken too soon. Violent death—”accidents,” they call it. Or my favorite term, “acts of God.” Ha! As if God would change the laws of the universe. Blame me, not God.
But imagine, if you will, a pressure cooker that only gains heat, eventually compromising the pot’s integrity. What then? No, the release should happen from time to time. It’s much better this way to lose some lives rather than an entire planet. Natural laws ultimately save lives and ensure that life can start again.
Did I stop the Earth’s rotation? Did I tell the sun not to shine? Give me a break here, why don’t you?
See, already, the pitter-patter of life is returning on my surface—the gentle hum of business and the quiet slumber of sleep return. Yes, change did happen. I am not here to tell you otherwise. But a necessary change.
Perhaps my explanation will calm the night terrors, wipe away the tears, and bring hope for tomorrow. Perhaps not. But I am the one who doesn’t change, although I do care and am also aware of my nature and ways, if you will.
There, I said my peace.
