Rain

Rain,  this constant, drenching reminder that the love of Christ abounds. I love something about every season but the rains of spring announcing the arrival of flowers and the rains of fall dousing the leaves, spectacular.

He is all around us.  He permeates us with His love and His presence. In the darkest hour, He is the light of hope.  He is the promise of comfort.

I cannot imagine my life without Him.  My words and thoughts flow freely to Him every day, yet He seems not to grow weary.  In fact, I sense the invitation to stay a while longer, say a little more.

In this hurry up world, He is my one invitation to rest. I see Him all around.  In the hug of a child I have just bruised with my words.  His forgiveness.  

In the compassion of friends spilling out encouragement even if their own cups border empty.  His grace.

In the extraordinary nature of a husband that does for me things I do not deserve.  His mercy.

In the world hell bent on evil, there is kindness.  His love.

In the inadequacies of my own mind and the bareness of my own heart,  He proves again and again that He is more than enough.  Not shaming me, but completing me. 

In the race to the finish, He reminds me it is the journey.  The things I pick up of Him, the things I lay down of this world.  His friendship is unfailing.

We are encouraged to pour in.  We focus on wealth or prestige, performance or perfection.  He insists we pour out.  The poor in spirit, it is they that are dearest to Him. We are told to minimize, exercise and quantify.  He reminds, He alone is more than enough.

The burdens overwhelming yet His, supernaturally light.  Laying it down and leaving it there, feeling freedom rush on the wings of wonderful.  We sense it.  Could it really be this easy?  Walking lighter.  It is not the law follower that speaks of Jesus, it is the freedom finder.

The sister or brother that can walk in grace alone.  They run unencumbered.  Fear does not trip them.  Discouragement cannot slow them.  They see the finish but know there is no worry to rush.  Time is no longer allowed, but given.  Given to glorify.

He would not have us toil or wonder.  He asks us to follow.  This crazy pull at the heart to allow Him to run things and hear Him in the noise of everything.  Rain down sweet Jesus, we want to dance in the puddles of being your child.