Skip to main content

Why I don't mind the rain today

It's been rainy, musty, muggy, and soggy here in Virginia for five days and counting.  Not the typical ninety degree August with unending sun beams i normally enjoy.  But honestly its been nice.  I've worn a hoodie to go outside, rain mist has kissed my cheeks and my glasses as I walk to and from my car and all of my begonias are getting doused with Heaven's best water.
The rain is nice because its the best sleepy time sound machine ever.  My kids never sleep as good and neither do I for that matter, as the nights I hear the water punch melodies out on all the gutters and shingle keys. Rainy days keep us in and keep us close.  They make each outing more of an adventure as we are in need of umbrellas (every four year old girls delight).
Yesterday as I put the girls in the car, brown eyed -big eyed almost two-girl stood stock-still in amazement at the water pouring out of the gutter. Her moon shaped eyes telling me the "Wow" her words could not as her baby fingers pointed to all the water dripping out puddles.
I love that look that crosses my older girls' eyes as they scan out the gorge of puddles that form on our sidewalk in the low point of our yard. How I usually say, "Please don't jump in the puddles until we get home. Please." Knowing this is a temptation for them that is very difficult to resist.
Rain gives you a different perspective on the world.  A natural different way to look at your surroundings.
All the books we've shared, legos the girls have built, and forts they've spent hours in on these days where Heaven's cloudy quilt has tucked us in tight...all these things don't happen so much on all those bright sun soaked summer days.
Now that day five of rain has said "Good morning", I know she'll bring with her a noisy bunch of kids who haven't been able to get all their energy out and our noise level will continue to escalate until the rain decides she's done.
I'll be happy to see the sun again.  We all will, but I didn't want to rush the rain.  She brings mercies with her that can't be found in the clear blue sky.
Life is like that too.
 Sunshiney days uplift us, energize us, and cause our souls to soar.
Rainy days can cause dark to creep in or they can cause us to go turn on our inner lights, hold each other closer, wait patiently as the drops drizzle clean paths down window panes, fill our hearts with anticipation for that first break in the clouds.
When I think of the word glory I think of the word shine.  And i immediately think of looking directly into the brightest point of the sun on a July day.
But when I think mercy, I think of rain.
How the mercy we don't deserve comes falling sometimes gently and sometimes in torrents because that is what our thirsty souls often so desperately need. How sometimes the merciful love we need come dripping out of God's downspout in ways we do not want or would refuse if we had the choice. How the mercy is sometimes veiled in storm clouds or just mundane dim days.  How all the dim days make the glory days so much sweeter.

Sometimes  you just have to step out and celebrate the rain.  For all the fun it can bring.  For the ways you can do nothing but embrace it.  For all the things it promises to grow in you.  

someone who did not resist the puddle 

Don't you love all the gentle hair all this heavy humidity shapes :) 


  1. kids love puddles! yes!

    and the rain can be a healing stream. and for that I am grateful.

    thank you, Summer. it's been good to have this little visit.

  2. Linda, thanks for the visit ;) and i have to admit about 4 o clock yesterday as I sat holding my sleeping baby the sunshine starting peeking out and finally stretched a smile across the sky, the clouds ebbed away and i actually found myself squinting..i heard a neighbor say, "its so bright out here." thats what five days of thick clouds will do. For an hour I kept smiling at the sunlight warming my feet and illuminating everything. Its amazing the new perspective you get from just a few days of non stop drizzle.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Free Writes #Wave

Four summers ago the first weekend in September marked one month.  One month lived out shaky and unsteady.  Just putting a few steps in front of the other and letting tears drip down faces or anger spill out at the sky.  "Why?"
I had watched my husband shake violently at the graveside of his twenty-six year old brother as he sat a few inches from the casket.
My usually stoic husband reached out for the casket as he passed by and I heard his voice crack as he called out his name.  One more time. I had never seen him stricken with grief.  That groan of emotion haunted me.   Those fifteen minutes spent under the funeral home's green awning the last minutes his family would ever be within arms length of this special brother.  A brother who had just slipped quietly out of this life beneath the green gold water of a river one steaming August day.  Bare chested and tan, jumping off the dock with friends.  Never to resurface again.
A lot of that week in August was just wakin…

Five Minute Fridays - "Last"

Last is such a final word, it’s a word that always makes us sit back and take note. We take note of the fact that something is about to draw to an end and we better enjoy the last drops, savor the last bites before its all gone. Like that last hot week of summer that we spend soaking up every last beam of Vitamin D. Or that last couple bites of a once a year Christmas dinner, slowly swallowed down. Or maybe the last night of a vacation where we try to take note of everything and know that we are returning to real world, real bills, real deadlines all seemingly too soon. Two weeks ago I experienced a last. For seven months I was given a gift. It was truly an unexpected gift. One I had never anticipated being given. For the past six years my sister Faith and I have lived in different cities for most of the time. We always mused over the idea that we should've lived together for at least one year of college. But from icy January 4th to steamy August 10th I had the gift…


Five Minute Fridays

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge.  Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors.  It signals something new.  A new twenty four hours.  A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life.  We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new.  It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…