Rain

Rain comes often to this country, usually in the afternoon.  Yesterday it rained 4-5 times just in our little neighbourhood.  I love the pitter-patter sound of rain on the roofs and streets, the sound of taxis and pedestrians splashing their way down the street.  It is a soothing sound ushering in the replenishment of moisture and reminder of the variations of nature.

Consider the rain.  A sprinkling is a brief bit of sky-spittle reminding us that water exists just beyond our grasp, but keeps us hoping.  A light rain cools our feet and softens our brows.  A good rain wets the ground and cools the air, washing dirt and grime where it wishes.  It is pleasant and pleasing to the soul.  Then there is a pelting, when it seems the drops strike the surface with an angry vengeance.  A storm comes with flashes of lightning and peals of thunder, knocking down leaves and keeping us huddled indoors.  The worse is gets, the more destructive it becomes, crushing houses and trees, reshaping hillsides and transplanting large vehicles with its floods.  In the worst times, the storm engulfed the entire world in its wrath.

  I love the rain in all its devices.  It reminds me that I am but a small force on a large planet.  It reminds me of God.  He is the quiet gentle whisper of promises of peace to come.  He is the one that cools our souls and gives us rest.  He cleanses us gently with soft warmth and love.  He judges with fire and heat, scourging our souls with pain and agony that we might turn to him and live.  If we still refuse, God wipes us away with a flick of his hand, leveling mountains of mankind's power and strength.

  My God, the Lord God, who is and has always been and forever will be, is calling me with letters of love, whispering to me of his kindness and gentleness, of his power and might.  Through the rain, he beckons to my soul.  I am refreshed.