Rain is really interesting, I realized this morning. I sat in front of the window looking out over the valley as the clouds rolled in. The fire was roaring in the wood stove, and with a cup of tea to warm my fingers, I was ready for whatever those clouds would bring, except that I had procrastinated on feeding the horses. The first drops drizzled down on my head while I went out to the barn to be greeted by Patches and Gunner, and the free range chickens who were seeking shelter from the wet.
Coming back in, I pass my herb garden which is drinking in the life coming down from heaven. The roman chamomile that was wilting and lying flat yesterday is perking up, and my basil plant looks like it is coming back to life.
Yes, it's cold, and it's wet, and it's soaking the firewood pile which means I have to carry logs in to dry them out, but for once, the rainy day feels joyful to me.
Rainy days definitely have a stereotype – stay inside, drink some coffee or tea, curl up with a book - (none of these are bad things to do, just sayin') that goes along with a mood, and that's where I run into a problem. Melancholy, dreary, discontented solitude isn't the way God designed me to live. There's something about rainy days that brings out the selfish in me. “I'm gonna do what I wanna do, because I don't feel like doing anything else.” (The attitude that sucks the life out of anyone around.)
But rain pours itself out on others and in conjunction with sunshine, brings life! The rain comes down until there isn't any rain left, or until the wind moves it away, and then the sun warms the earth, and it doesn't take a trained eye to see the beauty that comes of it. Isn't that how I ought to be living out my faith, and my love for the Lord?
Instead of rainy days being an invitation to serve myself, I want them to be a reminder for me to pour out love on others, so that in conjunction with the Spirit of God, life will spring up.