It is miserable. The damp, cold, rain outside beating against the window pain mixed with clouds gray with hostility have somehow pushed our glowing sun right from the sky. It’s wretched. It’s the kind of day that would be perfect for staying under the substantial loft of a warm comforter. Or sitting; hot tea in one hand, book in the other, peeping under my pink readers, lost in a novel. Leaves are blowing by my window. I see them. Fluttering around as if looking themselves for a warm place to hibernate. The squirrels have gone, as have my Stellar Jays, whom I call to the deck with peanuts all summer like Snow White. All of their peanuts have been buried, lying in wait to be rediscovered in a mid-winter’s snow. The resident deer still linger. Aimlessly wandering the yards nibbling on any last pieces of clover they can find. Winter is most certainly starting to make a small threat here in the Pacific Northwest.
Do some days just roll in like a storm? Some days you want to cover the bed head back up. Some days you are frustrated or angry or just downright depressed. Days that hold a piece of bad news, a shattering phone call or even a driver in the next lane that is being agitating. A person next to you on the airplane that has no clue that they are not the only one on the flight. Marital or financial situations… When storms arise of any sort, what do people see in you? Do you push right back? Judge? Spiral out of control with rage? Hold grudges? Hold in jealousy? Bitterness? Take it out on someone else at work or home? WHO do these people see? Because whether you know it or not, they are watching. I have weathered some turbulent storms, let me tell you. This I know now; Had I not, I would’ve missed the lesson. I have become more compassionate. How can I show compassion if I hadn’t weathered the storm? It has taught me about the Creator’s sufficiency. How can I know adequacy if I hadn’t at one time had nothing? Which of course led to appreciation. It has taught me about endurance, it has shown me I cannot rely on myself, and trust me in a World of “I can do it on my own” that was a tough pill to swallow. It has taught me courage only because now I stand behind armor. It has taught me trust. Empathy. I know if I had missed the storms I would be a completely different person. Maybe not that great of a person. Uptight or inhospitable. Judgmental. Stuck in my woundedness. Disagreeable and jaded by an astringent life.
We prove God in adversity–not in calm waters. Is that who people see when turbulence and dark, stormy downpours roll in?
Rain has got to be my worst weather condition. I don’t like being wet. I do not enjoy feeling chilled to the bone. My African, curly head of hair gets extremely bothered by it. It’s something no flatiron can fix. But when I adjust my focus or look through a different lens, I see that it’s necessary. It’s nourishing to the hard ground. It’s refreshing and cooling from the scorching sun. It washes away dirt and dust in a dry land. Humans are made up of 90%water, we need it for survival. Rain allows us to create hydropower. It’s vital and essential.
So today I refocused. I watched and waited for the perfect POURING moment and I jumped. Right. Into. The. Puddles. I laughed like a child! I thanked the most High for the storms. I was thankful for the cold, pounding rain because it reminded me that even though it’s storming now, it is significant in transforming all sorts of things into the new and remarkable. And I’m already promised that it won’t last forever.