The Mountain That Gave Fair Warning

On March 20, 1980, a 4.2-magnitude earthquake shook Mount St. Helens in Washington State. Over the next two months, the north face of the mountain bulged outward five feet per day — a visible, measurable swelling that geologists called unprecedented. Authorities issued evacuation orders. Most residents left. But Harry Truman, the eighty-three-year-old owner of Mount St. Helens Lodge on Spirit Lake, waved them all off. He told reporters he had lived on that mountain for fifty-four years. He said the mountain would never hurt him. He posed for photographs with his sixteen cats and became something of a folk hero for his defiance.

On May 18, the mountain exploded with the force of five hundred Hiroshima bombs. The blast flattened 230 square miles of forest in under four minutes. Harry Truman was buried beneath 150 feet of volcanic debris. The mountain had not been subtle. It had groaned, swelled, and steamed for weeks. The warnings were not hidden — they were written across the landscape in tremors anyone could feel.

Zephaniah speaks with that same unmistakable clarity. The great Day of the Lord is near — near and coming quickly. The prophet stacks word upon word — distress, anguish, trouble, ruin, darkness, gloom — not to frighten but to shake loose the dangerous comfort of those who whisper, "The Lord will do nothing." The mountain is rumbling. The invitation to repent is still open. But not forever.