I do love the rain in the summer... I'm sitting at my desk and the window is open next to me. It's POURING down rain... and in the 60s... still fairly warm. No joke - this is what the sky looks like:
It's this yellowy color... like if we were in the midwest maybe we'd have a major thunderstorm warning tonight. Here? Well, here we just get the rain. Pounding rain. rain you could lose yourself in. I want to take a walk now... in the rain... Can I do that? Am I crazy for even wanting it? Didn't God make the rain? People always tell me they hear from Him in the water... showers, etc.
I'll be back...
OK, I'm back. SURREAL story. And I smell like grass. And I'm gonna be sore tomorrow. Ready?
So I go outside. It's crazy raining. By the time I get to the park (i.e. 1 minute from my front door), the rain, the deluge, has become a trickle. I still enjoy it, though... refreshing. I realize that I left at exactly 9:00 - the 9:00 walk back in force.
I walk down one side of the park, very much enjoying the warm breeze and the cool rain. 2/3 of the way down, I turn and see the most AMAZING break in the storm clouds - it's incredible. I smile at God and keep walking... wondering if this rainstorm is what happiness could look like.
I turn at the pond and start heading down the opposite side of the park. (it's sort of in a very long triangle.) Slowly I'm walking now, each step longer apart than the next. I'm astounded by the clouds. Spiritually, I've been struggling about... LIFE... what to do. When I looked at the clouds, I wanted to cry. I still don't understand it, but my soul cried out "THAT! THAT is what I want!" I saw blackness, dark windblown clouds, all around me. Cratered in the middle was that same burst of blue - bluer now... blue like summer and all the hopes and dreams the season encapsulates. Layers of clouds pierced the summer blue... white with hope; peach... the most intense peach... like innocence and dreams and thoughts that life isn't dreary; it's filled with color and purpose. Most incredible of all, though, were the gray clouds. They weren't gray at all. They were radiating with a deep pink... like the pink lived inside the gray and was shouting to be let out. They kept moving and changing, always pulsating this pink of life and love. When I think about them now I just pause - seeing them as God's adoration of us. Of me. The hope, the life, the love, surrounded by turmoil and yet content in knowing that the turmoil is temporary. The turmoil is what draws us to the place where we can see God's heart in the first place. We can understand, even in just the tiniest way, that there IS more.
Still yearning, but ready to move on, I set my feet in motion for the final turn. The closer I got, the more I felt that i needed to kick of the flip flops and walk home THROUGH the park, barefoot. I finally did. Our park is like a bowl. the sidewalk and the edge of the grass are a few feet higher than the main part of the park. My wet feet and the slippery grass decided not to be friends.
One foot slipped out from under me and instantly I was on my bum, my brand new pants soaking wet. I stood and, as I was regaining my balance, the other foot slipped. I hurt, my side and a toe were bruised, but I laughed. staring ahead, all I could see were the black rain clouds that drew me outside. Gaurding my back was the lesson I learned in hope.
I walked on, trying to create a memory of this surreal 15 minutes.
Up ahead I realized that in this flipped upside down world... what goes down, must go up. I had to climb the hill again to get to the sidewalk. Just at the top of the hill, what do I see... but someone's cell phone. Knowing that someone was seriously missing their phone and that it most likely wouldn't be there in the morning - despite possibly being ruined by the rain, I picked it up to find a number that might know where the owner was.
Hitting Send, I scrolled through the recent calls and found Home. I called, and the owner just arrived to pick it up.
Funny thing... When he realized he lost the phone, he told his wife - "Don't worry. Someone will dial Home." Just after she asked, "How will they know the number?" I called.
It feels good to do a good deed and connect with someone else - even just for a moment. And to smell a little like grass.