You know (or maybe you don't, hence this blog), there's something about rain that's so terribly wonderful. It's wonderful, but terrible all the same. I mean when it comes it's so refreshing, but it's also dismal, heavy, and gray. Today in the middle of the service in the spire, the clouds started coming down in buckets. They were mostly those plastic 9 litre tubs with the handles. As they all splashed onto the roof, I thought to myself, wow this is terrible and wonderful all at once. There's something terrible about the thunder and the rain smashing against the tiles, and also wonderful how you're inside and just can listen to it in safety. Somehow, even if it's cold, the place feels cozy and safe. On one hand (my left, I think), the rain reminds me of winter days curled up as a child, and on the other, it reminds me of standing in the rain with the wind making my umbrella a none-brella, and just looking around and seeing how dismal and dark everything was. Sometimes I think of Noah, and how that was pretty much what he endured for forty entire days and nights. One day is enough to make me go bonkers. And I'm never bonkers.
And as the rain pattered down, I suddenly felt like I was at home. I don't know if you know what I mean. I don't mean a particular place home, I mean just home. Like somehow I felt I was in another home far away, and that the rain was something distant I could laugh at, and the preacher was talking about how we have this anchor of the soul, our hope in Jesus which keeps us firm through the storm, and everything that morning just felt like an object lesson. I said God, thank you for the rain. And it kept falling down, it kept falling down all morning. I went out and drove with Mary through the storm, and she said wow Livi this is scary I'm glad you're driving instead of me, and we got to the garage and pulled up, and I got out and we just kind of sat there and watched the rain fall down. I said to her, this isn't so scary now is it? And she said to me, Livi when I finally come out of the storm, I'm even more happy to be home. And I said you know what Mary, you say it better than I can.