Sunday, May 15, 2011


It might seem strange, but I really enjoy rainy days, especially this time of year.  I love the slow, soaking, persistent rains that permeate deep into the soil, saturate the empty pore spaces, and nourish the wildflowers that are finally making an appearance after a long, cold, reluctant spring.  I like watching the drops fall on my car windshield, course down the glass in small rivulets, and carry away the pollen clinging to the glass.  I love the smell of wet earth and the way the sugar maple leaves glisten as they twitch with each little breeze or raindrop.  If we've had a long dry spell, I get to see the hardened soil become soft, and watch as gaps and depressions fill with water and soil particles become an indistinguishable slurry of mud.  Few things are as relaxing to me as lounging on my loveseat with a window cracked, listening to the rain and the occasional chirping bird while I write, read, or in this case, type.  There’s something quite peaceful and soothing about it.  Something that encourages reflection and introspection.  Later, when the heat of summer arrives, there’s nothing more refreshing than standing outside in a downpour and getting absolutely soaked to the core. 
I was sitting here enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of a high-quality rainy spring day while I worked, and it made me think about love.  Real, unconditional, transformative love.  Love a Father has for his child.  Why?  Because it seems to me that that kind of love is really a lot like a good, long, soaking rain.  That kind of love permeates us.  That kind of love fills up the empty spaces in us and between us, drowns our independence, and connects us to what we were once isolated from (let’s just pretend that preposition isn’t there).  That kind of love cleanses.  That kind of love makes hard things soft... hearts, for example.  That kind of love is endless; it’s abounding.  That kind of love just keeps coming, gently but persistently.  Pride slowly crumbles under the relentless flow of that kind of love.  And then, when we’re soft and ready, that kind of love brings healing, growth, and renewal.  It nourishes new life.  That rainy-day kind of love is transformative.    
Love works just like the rain.  Have you experienced it?  Have you been changed by it?  Maybe it’s time for us to let down our guard...put away our umbrellas, so to speak...and get soaked to the core.  

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