My dear, longsuffering friends, I’m certain you would be just as happy to not hear another syllable about the rainy weather in these parts. I cannot blame you, for no matter how much I crave the occasional rainy day, we have had quite more than our share in recent weeks.
While there are those in certain areas who have experienced their homes being total losses, we have been fortunate to have only one bedroom with a damp floor. Considering that you're looking at part of our neighborhood earlier this week, that is, indeed, a blessing.
I’m not sure how the water seeped into the room, through the wall, around the foundation, I don’t know, but the good news is the damage appears minimal, and nothing was lost, except the carpet, of course, but that might be a blessing as hardwood flooring has been on my radar for some time now. We'll see. At the moment, we’re a bit displaced, and we’ve a smelly mess we're dealing with, but we are ever so grateful.
Rain, whether literally or figuratively, is simply a part of life. I’m reminded of the Scripture in Matthew where Jesus says: “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for He causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”
And let the people say, “Amen!”
I haven't much interesting to say these days, for the days are all starting to look the same. But nothing lasts forever; change will come. For now, all is quiet in the room that is my office, night has fallen on yet another gray day in the neighborhood. The rain came in soft sprinkles today, then in steady streams, leaving the air heavy with humidity. Alas, more rain is predicted this week.
I’ve written often about life’s storms, how one minute the landscape is in order, only to find it altered in drastic ways the next. Death, divorce, abandonment—all of these things reshape our lives. Afterwards, we are never quite the same.
But I also believe that those who’ve lived through stormy seasons, who’ve borne them with courage and grace, come out with a deeper appreciation for the ordinary things in life. The first light of dawn. The last glow of the sun as it slips below the horizon. The smell of morning. That first cup of coffee. A full moon rising. The sound of a child’s laughter. The touch of a loving hand.
It is in the small things that I find great strength during the rainy seasons of life.
Until next time, sweet friends, may the sun shine upon you, wherever you are.
P.S. I don’t think I shared with you my latest published article. It appeared in Nashville’s paper, The Tennessean in May, both online and in print. It is a gentle essay about the heartbreaking disease of dementia and Alzheimer’s. You may recognize part of it from a blog post here, earlier this year.