The Rain Is Falling

Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain. A magnet on my fridge displaying a black and white picture of rubber rain boots lined up by a door, says this. My heart sings it.

I held and snuggled three different babies tonight. I rocked them to sleep…stared into their curious baby eyes – so open to the universe and breathing everything in. I talked to them, delighting in their smiles and coos. I reveled in their soft skin and perfectly rounded heads and cradled their tiny bodies and longed for a body like this to call my own. One wee little bit of arms and legs that I created and birthed, one my heart has long been pregnant with.

The rain is falling. 

It’s one in the morning and I just finished texting a young woman who I feel blessed to call my friend. She’s a heart sister, this girl…a deep well of life and thoughts and struggles that all resonate with humanity and longing. She’s reaching for love and coming up empty-handed, like we all have at one time or another in our lives. And I don’t know what to say because there isn’t a pat answer for such things, so I tell her that Jesus is love and He loves her more than she can imagine. I tell her that he’s reaching for her…I ask her to believe when she can’t touch him physically.

The rain is falling.

There’s nothing like feeling the weight of criticism crash down from someone you’ve rarely heard a word of affirmation from. What do you do with the bitter angry that turns and twists and coils your insides? How do you reach back with love when you feel snubbed, intimidated, looked-down upon? Rejection is such a keen feeling.

The rain is falling.

And oh, the pain of not meeting the expectations, not fulfilling the desires of another, missing the mark of someone’s vision. Feeling judged. Sitting in girls’ group wanting so desperately to share your heart…wanting such high things for the group of young feminine souls who share the room with you…and feeling as though you’ve already lost. Sometimes when people make their mind up about you there’s nothing you can do about it. Realizing this meeting is a countdown to the end – and feeling the pain because of it.

The rain is falling.

Tonight, we jumped out of the car and the rain was falling from heaven as though the skies had parted and were weeping with all the pain and sorrow of the universe. The street lights shone, glowing in the ten o’clock darkness, making the rain glitter as it bounced off the pavement.We climbed the steps, my man and I, our hands full with remnants of our Sunday evening supper with friends.

“Let’s go!” My husband dropped his armload and held out his hand.

“What?” I stood there dumbly, fumbling with an armload of my own. He was already walking off the front steps, sloshing through the wee puddles forming on the sidewalk. “Let’s dance in the street,” He said, laughing. “In the rain!”

I dumped my things to the porch floor and  bounded after him, laughing. Something inside me unbolted and came loose with every step I took, following his lead.

 We danced in the road, rain soaking our clothes. Where the yellow lines divide the road into lanes, we danced…twirling in the rain and laughing with our eyes and mouths and hearts. Our hearts made music as the burdens of our hearts – the questions and struggles and fears and hurts melted and slid away like the rain tracing lines down our cheeks.

The rain is falling.


3 thoughts on “The Rain Is Falling

  1. I love this… God’s grace came pouring down at the leading of the man of God you married!!! May God complete the healing He started in your hearts as you danced in the rain!!!

  2. Your paragraph about the babies touched me. In my 11 years of marriage I have cried many tears over the very same thing, but I am also now blessed with 3 beautiful children. I pray that God will continue to rain down his blessings on you and some day you’ll hold your own!

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