No rain falls that I do not at once hear in the sound of the falling water an invitation to come to the wedding. It is rare that I do not answer. A walk in an evening rain in any setting is to walk in the midst of God’s loving attention to his earth, and, like a baptism, is no simple washing, but a communication of life. When you hurry in out of the rain, I hurry out into it, for it is a sign that all is well, that God loves, that good is to follow. If suffering a doubt, I find myself looking to rain as a good omen. And in rain, I always hear singing, wordless chant rising and falling.—Matthew Kelty, Flute Solo:Reflections of a Trappist Hermit
This morning right before I drop Jeffrey at school…the sky opens. I try not to be too glad because I know folks have to drive in this stuff; but it is our secret love language and each drop—a kiss falling from heaven.
It thrums a sweet rhythm as I head back home and when I pull into the drive, the robins scurry to-and-fro—splashing in the rain-soaked earth.
It’s been a busy few days, with lots of meetings and gatherings and that hour of sleep we lost feels like an entire night and I am tired. I haven’t had the time to pause and look around. But now? I do.
The beauty of a cloudy day is tangible…the air so thick I want to hold it in my hands. I taste it in my breath, feel misty ribbons flow inside of me. The moisture in the air weaves a white cloak over the mountains—soft like the breath of God. And the streets glisten, winking in the early morning light.
In our small group last night we continued our Easter journey. We talked about regrets and wondered over the different paths of Peter and Judas. Baby Luke joined us for the first time and having that bit of softness among us must have tendered our hearts. There were tears. And I was reminded how tears—like the rain—can baptize; how tears can create a holy place.
Oh, sweet baptism. Receiving it all with a dewy smile today.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us: