I listen to wet tires whoosh down Walker Avenue. I hear soft rain piddle its tune upon wet stone. They are bits of grace, from a soft Irish rain falling outside my window.
A rain like this always soothes my spirit. It makes me drowsy. It makes me long for the comfort of my soft bed. And even though it’s on the cool side — mid-fifties, I think — I’m going to crack my bedside window and cuddle up in warm blankets.
It has been a dry Spring. The parched dirt must be quenching its thirst with this lovely Irish blessing. The garden glistens like glass. Twenty-four hours of straight rain has made my garden happy and plump with wet green.
What is it about a gentle rain that fills me with hope? It makes me think baptism. I feel wash cleaned. Fresh. The rain makes all things new. The rain is holy, like that dove that swept down from heaven, all those years ago.
Perhaps a small drop will cure my spider bite scar, that even a week later, is still warm and tender with fever. Or better yet, maybe it could wipe away Daddy’s pneumonia. The nurse is worried about “Pappy.” That’s her name for my father — who in younger days, was a more respectful ‘Mr. Pappas.’
Pappy, indeed. The nurse says it’s hard for the elderly to bounce back. Is she trying to prepare me? Or herself? I should have told her, if anyone can bounce back, my father can. Doesn’t that sound just like a child, bragging about what her daddy can do?
Do raindrops taste as good as when I was a child? Back then, I didn’t care whether I stayed dry or got wet. Before I ‘got’ better sense, I would turn my small face up to the sky. Open my mouth. Wide. Wider. And catch raindrops with my tongue. Sweet success.
I was a young thirsty flower with no need for doctors or tongue depressors to tell me to say “Ahh.” I knew good medicine when it hit me in the face.
There’s nothing in the world better than that kind of rain. And things do glisten, don’t they?
We need rain – a good long soaking like you’re getting. It’s too dry already. We’ve been waiting for days for the high to move east, and I just checked the radar – if I stay up long enough, I may get to hear it begin.
I wasn’t a raindrop catcher, but I did love the taste of snowflakes. Rain or snow, it’s the looking up to heaven that adds that extra flavor 😉
I hope with you, that the grace of a gentle rain comes your way.
My memories of rain in coastal Texas are of the more serious variety — not just Tropical Storms, but rain where it showed up with serious intentions.
I can recall my first visit to Houston — back in the late sixties — when I saw steam rise up out of the ground. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I so disliked Houston humidity — I told myself I would never come back.
These famous last words later came back to bite me. But the words hurt a lot less than a spider.
Carol A said:
Today is Sunday and we are having rain today. Sometimes slow and sometimes a downpour. I love a rainy day as you do! I have my cup of hot tea, the Sunday paper and a good book. I gave the lesson at UMW Circle Thursday night on “Holy Days” which was all about Easter, but mostly about the women who went to the tomb and Jesus told them “not to be afraid” but to go tell the disciples that he had risen and they left with fear and great joy. That has really stuck with me “fear & great joy”. We can fear something and yet still take action and do it with great joy especially if we do it for the Lord. This is something I want to ponder for a while. I can remember when we first started Stephen Ministry and I had much fear about being a “leader” of it but I did feel called by God and I did end up doing with great joy! God is so good! We commissioned 2 new Stephen Ministes last night. Frank & I are starting to organize our Stephen Leaders so they can take over as we retire. It has been a wonderful 10 years with so many different Stephen Ministers.
Good to hear from you, on a shared rainy day, 500 miles apart.
I like the tomb stories too, especially the one where Mary Magdalene mistook Jesus for a gardener — it makes me think of Jesus as the first Master Gardener!
Congratulations on your 2 new Stephen Ministers. So much work goes into making this possible — and I know it is a labor of love for all involved. May the transition from you and Frank to others (who are probably full of fear and joy) flow smoothly.
Blessings on your week, as God sprinkles you with Holy Water from the heavens above.
Dee @ Red Dirt Ramblings said:
To be washed clean. Isn’t that what we all long for? It’s funny, I find the rain depressing after a day or two. I need to soak up the sun. Now, in August, don’t hold me to that, but in spring, I am an eager child with so much to do. Thank you for your writing.~~Dee
It is wonderful to be an eager child with much to do. And from my side of the computer, it’s just as wonderful to share in your joy by following your blog.
Perhaps God sends rain to gardeners to gift them with rest?