Rain, Rain....stay and play!

What does a rainy day mean to you? Is it a gloomy day? Or do you view it as a nice, cozy chance to curl up on the couch with a good book? How about stormy nights? I find thunderstorms after dark are exciting for me…with the crack of lightning and the boom of thunder. I actually prefer the sights and sounds of a good, powerful thunderstorm to any fireworks display I’ve ever seen.

Last night, a great storm rolled in. My oldest son was already asleep, but my youngest had not quite fallen asleep. My little guy was, naturally, frightened by the thunder and blinding lightning. I climbed onto his bed and sat, holding his hand, while he tried to fall asleep. Every time the thunder would boom and rumble overhead I just gave him the biggest smile and told him he was safe. He would grin back at me. After a while, he drifted off to sleep in the midst of the chaos outside our home.

There is another kind of rain that I love. Have you ever experienced a day during the summer when it is sunny and bright outside but then it suddenly starts to pour down rain? We have days here in this part of the world where we receive a deluge of rain from the sky while the sun is still shining! It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it is awesome. On those days, I like nothing better than to walk outside and just stand in the rain. Yes, clothes and all. It is such a refreshing, cleansing feeling to feel the warmth of the sun and the force of the heavy raindrops at the same time! And every drop is lit up by the sun...drops of liquid light...one of my favorite experiences here on Earth.

So, imagine this person who loves rain…who never wants to use an umbrella…who actually craves getting rained on…marrying a person who dislikes the rain and who always wants an umbrella. My poor husband, when we were dating, would try to be chivalrous and dash out of the car and around to the passenger side with an umbrella to protect me. Too often, though, I would jump out of the car before he could get to me and say something along the lines of, "I just LOVE the rain, don’t you?" To which he would reply, "NO!" Over the years we’ve learned to accept each other’s differing opinions of the rain…but there was a time when I couldn’t understand his use of an umbrella, and he couldn’t understand my refusal to use one! I’ve learned that I am most definitely in the minority when it comes to the umbrella issue.

So, jump ahead several years to today. My husband and I have two wonderful sons. My oldest son has been taking enrichment classes at a local university this week. The weather all week has been sunny and hot. Today, however, we have lots of rain. When I pulled up to the drop-off area at the university, I saw all of the staff standing, dutifully, in the rain with umbrellas. Waiting to usher the children across campus with their metal and nylon appliances of dryness…trying to shield the kids from any unwanted drips and drops of water falling from the Heavens. I sighed. My son had asked me to walk with him to his class this morning, which I was happy to do. But now I was faced with the reality of my "abnormal" way of thinking. I asked if they wanted to use an umbrella and both boys yelled, "Yes!" So, I grabbed an umbrella from the van and prepared to look "normal" in front of all of the other moms, staff, and students. To add insult to injury, the umbrella – while a very nice one – happened to be huge! I think it must be a golf umbrella or something. Now, I will have to admit that it must have looked quite comical the way I was trying to hold this giant thing above three bodies…two of which both wanted to hold the umbrella on their own and at the same time were fighting over where to position themselves in our little group. We started across the campus at a painfully slow pace, fussing and quarreling the whole way. Then, my oldest dashes out in front of us...out from under the colorful, protective canopy on a stick. All of a sudden his face just lights up. It dawns on him that standing in the rain is kind of fun. He starts giggling and running and having a grand time. Younger son, witnessing this strange behavior of his older brother's, decides to try it, too. "Well, what do you know?" he seems to be thinking, "This is fun." And where am I left? I am left holding the umbrella. I’m not sure if I should cave in to the world's rules, scold the boys, and tell them they must adhere to the socially mandated guidelines of rain safety. A staff member passes us and tells my oldest son he should get back under his mother's umbrella. What to do? What to do?!?

I closed the umbrella and joined my boys.

Rain is fun. Life is short.

Why be normal?

a lightened load is easier to carry

I decided to include one more journal entry from the backpacking trip we took to Colorado last year. Although the subject of this entry is not the most light-hearted one, this is the memory of that trip that will stick with me forever. Two of my closest friends, Joel and Diane, lost their 4 year old son, Julian, on May 20, 2006. He was a beautiful, healthy boy. This journal entry has been edited to remove people’s last names.

August 3, 2006 – Thursday

I didn’t come to these mountains with any expectations other than getting in some great hiking. And when Norv suggested we think about the "mountains" in our lives that we need to climb, I really couldn’t pinpoint one. Sure...I’ve had lots of mountains and even plenty of molehills in my life, but I wasn’t feeling led to focus on any one issue.

Today we climbed to a high mountain meadow on Mt. Huron. The trail was steep and our breaks to catch our breath were many. The views, of course, were magnificent. Darren and I considered going on to scale the peak, but then decided against it because of some dark clouds heading our way. That was a good decision because the rain and thunder started as we began our descent.

As I made my way slowly down the trail my thoughts began to get more focused. I started thinking about the very end of the Chronicles of Narnia series. The very last part of the last book describes a version of Heaven according to C. S. Lewis. Heaven in that book is described as magnificent meadows, valleys, and lush mountains. The mountains are so tall their peaks get lost in the clouds. And when you are in Heaven you can run and run and run and never feel tired. You can scale mountains in a heartbeat.

I read this description of Heaven just a few days after Julian’s funeral. At the time I read that, I cried tears of joy when I pictured little Julian running and playing in Heaven’s sunshine. No heart problems – pure joy.

Julian’s mommy, Diane, is one of my best friends. And Julian was one of my son’s best buddies. While I cannot begin to imagine the nightmare Joel and Diane are facing right now, I do have a front row seat to their grief and pain. Every day my heart breaks anew for them. Every day I carry an enormous burden of grief of my own.

I wrote earlier how I felt God’s presence during the storm that hit Lake Ann. Well, today I was descending Mt. Huron in the rain and thunder, and I was crying new tears with every step – feeling the loss of Julian all the more. I was beside myself with grief. While I am so happy for him, spending eternity in the presence of God in Heaven, I selfishly want him back on this miserable planet.

Finally the emotional pain was so great that I literally cried out to God, "I can’t do this anymore! Please take this burden from me!" I kept walking and praying. And it struck me that I have "met" God during the storms here in the mountains. While I stand in awe during the sunny times, it is during the storms that I feel his presence. Kind of like every day life, isn’t it? It is during our storms-- when we feel helpless or alone-- that God can pull us close and hold us…get us through to sunnier days.

Shortly after asking God to take my burden, the rain stopped and the sun came back out. I sit here on a rock listening to a stream and feeling the gentle breeze on my face. Soon I’ll have to put my pack back on and hit the trail again.

This time I think my steps will be lighter. I know my grieving isn’t over and won’t be for a long time. But I also know that I can ask my Creator to carry the burden for me. And He will.