Rain Storms



Sometimes at the end of the week I'm too run down and tired to be of any use to anyone or anything.  Sometimes I'm like that at the beginning of the week too.  And sometimes I'm like that during the middle of the week as well. 

I call these my rainy days.  Days when the kids were particularly rowdy.  Days when I wake up with a headache or sore limbs thanks to parathyroid disease.  Days when the sky never turns bright with sun.  And days where the only way to go is up. 

There are more times than I can count where I do that the sink full of dishes needs taken care of and the mountain of laundry needs washing, but making the effort to do so is too large particularly when sitting on the couch with my feet up is just so much easier.  It soothes me, to sit a spell and be still, relishing in a few moments of quiet time.  Sometimes I need to recharge, because if I don't the rain will turn into a flood and take me away.  

There are days that come with a slight chance of rain. These are the days that come fast and come often, with no warning.  Days like this start with a late start and missed school bus, spilled milk across the kitchen counter that's dripping and pooling onto the floor, arguments between kids, and a collection notice in my mailbox. 
And so the water rises.

And soon the clouds turn grey and heavy and large droplets of water begin to fall hard and fast and I just can't seem to find my umbrella, because when it rains it pours and I am bound to get wet.  These are the days that have recently involved an emercency room trip for a sick child, being powerless to help someone close to me who struggles with addiction, and battling the nagging feelings of inadaquacy that all too often find their way into the forefront of my mind.  These are the days where I find myself at the of realizing that I haven't even once thought about or even thanked God for the blessings of my life, because during days like these the bad clouds my vision of the good and makes it extremely hard to see straight.

Again, the water rises.  And before I know it the water has risen clear up to my waist as I wade through the storm of my life. 

All because I am made of sinews of muscle that tire and flesh that gets hungry and lungs that can’t seem to catch their breath. And all that is laced through with sin that wants to trap me in my tiredness and tell me I am no good.

A year ago, that very same flash flood would have carried me away, my only saftey net being the bottles of prescription pills I took daily to keep my head above water. 

Nowadays, I've learned how to swim.  It also doesn't hurt that I've got the best life preserver out there.

So I sit down and steal away for a few quiet moments in spite of the rain rather than in the midst of it and I pray.  And God takes my empty spaces and fills them with peace.  And even though I know I'm not waterproof I will make it through.  Because after the rain comes the most beautiful rainbow.