I love the rain…by Marygrace Lomboy
I love the rain. I always have. I remember as a child sitting on my back porch with my father, watching the night time sky light up with lighting and hearing the great big booms of thunder and knowing that I was loved and protected and nothing can harm me. I was safe under the porch with my dad. The rain couldn’t hurt me. My mom was not especially fond of thunderstorms, cradling my baby brother and closing all of the windows. This was a dad and daughter thing, and I welcomed any clouds or threat of thunderstorms that arose as it may be a time for popsicles, laughter and thunder bolts with my dad.
This morning, I’m at the beach and I awakened to buckets and buckets of rain. What a contrast to the sunshine and the 50+ sunscreen we had to apply yesterday. It reminds me of the way life turns, a day of sunshine followed by the buckets of rain.
There is something so cathartic, pure and clean with watching the rain come down in droves. It feels like grief in a way, as a person who experiences loss and finally lets it go. The tears start and you never think they will stop. The heart, soul and life pours out and this rain is grief.
This is natural process, but so difficult to go through. With this force of grief comes a time to know that God is present for each of us to carry us through this horrific storm. It’s been in the most difficult times of my life that I have felt the closest to God. His presence was palpable when I had the rainstorms of my life. Looking back, it was a time for renewal and to reach out to God for love and support. God was on the other side of the rainstorm.
Grief is very individualized and there are no rules that go along with it. It comes in waves and is at times unpredictable. However, I’m grateful for the process. It reminds me that I have loved and been loved. I truly am alive. I am grateful for the memories and the times shared. There must be rain for the flowers to grow. At the end, there may even be a rainbow…