Playdates with God: How Tears can Baptize

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.
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:

The Playdates button:

 

Sharing with L.L. Barkat today also: 

On In Around button

Comments

  1. says

    Beautiful words–brought tears to my eyes. Our pastor preached on Anchors in the Storm. I’m pondering on that today, too. I love how God’s presence can be in your small group as well as our house of worship. He’s our Jehovah- Shammah!

  2. says

    To be baptized is to be identified with Christ.

    What better way to identify with the body of Christ than thru shared tears?

    What a beautiful perspective!

  3. says

    How beautiful! Baptized by tears. The rain! How elgant you have put it. I surely will look at the rain today much diffferently. As well as my personal tears which have been flowing like a storm as of late. Blessing for the week ahead.
    Blessings

  4. says

    It looks like it’s about to rain at my house, and I need to go cut some forsythia to bring in. But if I get rained on, so be it. May I be baptized in it.

    I’ve shed so many tears lately over a church situation. But I love how you’re reframing that for me–“tears–like the rain–can baptize; how tears can create a holy place.”

    Thanks, Laura. You always inspire. Your in-real-life church community is so blessed to have you among them. I’m blessed to at least have you in my online church community.

  5. says

    Rain is beautiful, and you just made it even more beautiful here. Glad you’re wrapped in it today. Blessings to you, friend.

  6. says

    Such tender words, Laura. So glad for you that you find joy — and God — in the rain. That you can see tears as a baptism.

    May the joy of the Lord infuse you, and wash away all your tiredness. May he give you renewed strength and enthusiasm for your life-journey.

    I love you, my friend.

  7. says

    I’ll never understand why some weeks the linky thing does re-direct to the right page on my site, and others (like this one) say the page isnt found. It does have a link to my home page, and that one works.

  8. says

    Love that you have a secret love language with God and this line “a kiss falling from heaven”…I am going to have to figure out a way to use it AND give you credit for it, of course 🙂 Hugs to you 🙂

  9. says

    I love the rain too Laura! We’re supposed to get some this week and we pant for it because we’re always on the brink of drought in California with so many people in such concentrated spaces. God’s goodness truly is evident in His gift of life-giving rain!

  10. says

    I find myself baptized on most of the days I write. Sometimes I wish I didn’t cry so easy but I know it is the presence of God with me. I am right there with you Laura, feeling so tired today after a weekend trip and losing that hour. I had to take a nap to get the dishes done tonight after dinner! Your writing is poetry for the soul. Love it!

  11. says

    Such loveliness, Laura. Beautiful images, beautiful words. Thank you. We Californians are literally starving for rain this year – like our friends in Texas last year. Even though it makes my joints ache, I love the rain, too. And I miss it this year. A lot.

  12. says

    I thought about the song about “what if the blessing comes through raindrops, what if our healing comes through tears”. Love the song and believe it to be soooo true. Yet, I have to admit, I am stingy with my tears. But I am coming out of that. Beautiful post, Laura. You have many gifts.

  13. says

    I wrote about tears too…but I don’t think I have appreciated the rain as you do–there is something there and I don’t want to miss it!! Sometimes it can rain a lot in Budapest or at the camp in western Hungary…I will remember:}

  14. says

    At 5:30 a.m. Monday morning my mother slipped peacefully to the God of the downpour. Although my siblings and I were processing her passing for weeks and months, there wear huge salt filled drops. Personally it was one of a few times I wailed in my life. The way you described rain above was balm for my spirit. Shortly after my mom died my older brother came back in the room proclaiming the the angels were crying too. It was raining outside.

  15. says

    ah, I have written about the baptism of tears and the seasons in which they seem to flow to often… Dear friend, I know that of which you speak today. What grace there is in every drop when the savior catches them… Bless you!

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