As I'm typing this, I can hear the pounding of the first storm of the rainy season and the rain as it thunders on the tin roof of our building.
And even as I sit here, I feel refreshed.
Rain has always had a magical influence on me, symbolizing something powerful and majestic. I loved the rainy season growing up in Arizona. August is burning hot, no relief from the temperature and humidity…. Until you see that wall of gray in the distance. That rolling clap of thunder, that sweet scent that hangs temptingly in the air and the hope that comes with it. Hope that, even if only for an hour or so, there will be a break from the heat. Hope that I can feel the fresh coolness on my face. Hope that my spirit will receive the same relief that my skin rejoices in.
I feel that hope rising up in me now as I soak in the favorite smell and drumming sounds of the rain. The weather has been dry for several months, not a drop of rain. In this season, it has been really easy to compare the dry season of weather to the thirst in my spirit. Hopelessness, exhaustion and just plain being worn out… In the dry season, it is easy to imagine that it will never end. As I hear the rain starting to plink on the roof, the analogy becomes too real to stay inside. I can't help myself, I have to be in it. So I immerse myself in that hope, willing that refreshing to soak through my skin, through the layers of flesh and bone, and into my soul that is so thirsty for refreshing. I sit in the downpour and close my eyes. The waves of rain hit my face and soak my clothes; I can't get enough of it.
When was the last time I did that in the Spirit? Just sat there, willing him to soak me to my marrow with the refreshing of his love? The dry season in my spirit has been really difficult here… troubling news from my family back home, the constant struggle to be honorable in communication, sickness and injury to myself and to the team and always the battle against fear taking root and killing my faith. My friend Yahaira gave me this quote in Spanish today: "Deja que tu sonrrisa cambie el mundo, no que el mundo cambie tu sonrrisa." The translation? "Let your smile change the world, don't let the world change your smile." If we let circumstances or feelings define our lives and attitude, where is our faith? As I sat there in the rain, I pictured myself as the roads here in Nicaragua: parched, dry footpaths, covering the feet of those who pass that way in layers of dust. And the rain just soaks those roads, settling the dust and debris, awakening the trails of green that follow.
Rain brings hope, hope for a change and a new season; a hope for refreshing. As I type this, the sun is peaking out from behind the clouds and the golden rays are shining across my fingers on the keyboard.
I have hope.
Have you found yours?
