There's something in the rain. She fights with it every time it comes.
Her eyes are heavy, joints ache, mind feels cloudy, smiles rarely come.
What is this about?
Just like the sunshine, the overcast days, it's just weather. Here today, changed tomorrow. She can't control it...it really has nothing to do with her. But just the same it feels personal. Invading her physically...emotionally. Could it be that these thousand of droplets actually represent something...mean more than they're letting on?
She peers out her window...studying the yard. Rivers have formed in crevasses in the dirt and pavement, flowers bend at the weight of droplets pelting at their delicate frame. No sign of active life...birds hide in their nests, insects flee, tricycles sit stagnant in the neighbours front yard...dripping...no one's come to play today.
She sighs. Stretches her feet to the end of the couch...rests her eyes.
Has she been defeated? By the rain?
She dreams...of waking fully alive...droplets dripping off her skin...her garments...her face...flushing her mind. The warmth of new light flooding...like love penetrating her spirit...the powerhouse of her being. She hears a far off laughing...squeals of delight. She begins to laugh at this joyful sound....
She awakes from her slumber to the sound of the far off laughter...she sits up to see the sun breaking through the rain clouds...her young neighbour on his tricycle, riding in circles, giggling, celebrating the end...celebrating the beginning...
The cleansing
She peers at the flowers...their peddles drip, but with new strength, they stretch and reach with renewal. The chickadees splash and sing, bathing in the puddles...crevasses of pooled rain, cleansing nature...washing what was dusty...dry. Life giving water. It felt personal...maybe it was.
The storm...the rain...all of it was necessary to keep life going...to refill, recharge...even if it felt personal and invasive at the time. Not just one droplet but thousands...dousing...it's the only way it would make a difference. Fill the empty crevasses...feed that which was drying up...dry soil...dry bones...a brittle and flaking spirit.
Living water.
~wanna read more? John 7:38, Revelation 7:17
The cleansing
She peers at the flowers...their peddles drip, but with new strength, they stretch and reach with renewal. The chickadees splash and sing, bathing in the puddles...crevasses of pooled rain, cleansing nature...washing what was dusty...dry. Life giving water. It felt personal...maybe it was.
The storm...the rain...all of it was necessary to keep life going...to refill, recharge...even if it felt personal and invasive at the time. Not just one droplet but thousands...dousing...it's the only way it would make a difference. Fill the empty crevasses...feed that which was drying up...dry soil...dry bones...a brittle and flaking spirit.
Living water.
~wanna read more? John 7:38, Revelation 7:17
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