I wake. Rain pelts the ground like bullets. Grey everywhere. Yet while some weep…some mourn, the robin builds her nest. She finds opportunity in the rain. The worms surface. The moisture of life can be fertile ground if we let it.
I recall a day so dark. When rain did not stop, clouds would not cease. Yet, it carried me, to today. While the war zone of my soul raged, life caught ray, surfaced within me. Life, through Him can always surface, if we let it.
Building. With straw, and hay, and leftovers. The robin. An artist of leftovers. What another finds useless, the robin finds a treasure. They choose to build. Creating naturally.
And shouldn’t we too choose to build, even if it rains?
Do we hunt to see, our scattered gifts in the rain? The opportunity to prepare for new life again? I hear their song. Nested high above. The life created. Life incubated. Chirping to declare their victory. Birth from dark to light. While my three little angels are nestled in their beds. Will they declare life so grand, so loudly one day? Will they leave the nest, knowing that God, all this while, has prepared them for soaring? I want to keep them. Hoard them. Feed them in my nest forever. But, they are not mine. A gift from above. I give Him thanks. I give praise. He build a life for me out of rain. He made the way through the dark. He gave me joy. He healed my heart. I thank Him. Praise due. Not just on sunny days. But today. I praise Him in this dark, gloomy rain, too.
Yesterdays rain…a gift to today’s joys. Beauty. Today’s gift. Worth the rain. Worth everything. And not my own in the making. But His. His. All His. He warmed me when bound by resistance. He fed me when I was weak. He carried me. Prepared me. He strengthened feeble feet. He shows me how to fly. My lifelong dream. To fly. And He can redeem, anything. Yes. Anything. You. Me. Anything. To Him, the Maker and keeper of all, a little rain is hardly a hindrance at all.
Rain. A gift, really, that softens the soil. ….If we let it.
After all, the parched desert rejoices at rain. The thirsty man. The rainbow. The hungry that cannot satisfy their own thirst, always rejoice at rain. Shouldn’t we? To live, not die. Keep our eyes on eternal glory. Yes, one day, we will fly.
