I heart Rain

I was reading a blog recently on stuffchristianslike.blogspot.com, which is a hilarious and sarcastic look at all of the silly things, or sometimes serious things, that Christians like and do that no one else does. I never realized how many there were, but the list is long. It's a funny blog that I would recommend checking out when you have a late night to spare glazed over in front of the computer. Anyway, one of these blogs talked about how much Christians love rain and talking about rain and singing about rain. Rain falls down, Rain on me, Grace like Rain, Bring the Rain, Mercy Rains, Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain. Wow, it's one of those words that doesn't really look like a word when you type it enough times.

Maybe we like to sing about rain, but who really likes it? I mean, who welcomes it and the way it usually ruins your plans? We were going swimming today for our Tuesday Moms and Kids time. Abigail and I had our lunch, got our suits on, got greased up with SPF 60 (both of us...I've burned enough times this summer already). I really like going swimming except for the necessary evil of SPF. I totally understand it's necessity, and would much rather wear it than the alternative of skin cancer. We have an old friend who liked to say, "Rays today, Raisins tomorrow." I see the need to protect skin, and really, really see the need to protect Abigail's. But, boy, I just hate that thick, greasy stuff. But back to being lubed....We were all set for swimming. We got to Angel's and had no sooner gotten our shoes and shirts off, and Abigail jumped in the pool, when there was lightening in the sky.

"Everybody Out!"

So, all of the moms and kiddos huddled under the eaves at Angel's house waiting for it to pass. Some of the kids were daring enough to stay in the downpour and run around the edge of the pool. The little kids grabbed some sidewalk chalk and looked for the nearest dry patch to color. And I lamented that we would have to take another shower when we got home just because we have to get the grease off. And then came the wail of all wails. The realization that swimming was not going to happen.

"I WANNA SWIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMM!!!"

Yes, that was my child. Everyone else was pretty okay with things, and here is Abigail in her ladybug swimsuit, still wearing her Dora sunglasses through the storm, pink flower floaties on her arms, and huge, sad tears running out of her eyes.

We all started explaining why we couldn't swim in the pool when it was a torrential downpour, and my friend Lori started explaining why God sends the rain and the breeze. And she seemed okay for a while. Then we had to get in the car (even the most hopeful have to recognize defeat at some point). She started getting upset again.

And I start explaining. "God has to send rain sometimes, Abigail. It can't be sunny every day. Because trees and the grass and flowers need water to grow. The rain is like a drink for them, and they need to drink just like you do. If it was sunny all the time, then they would get very hot and dry and tired. So even if the rain isn't very fun, they have to have it to grow."

She really got it. "The flowers need to drink water. They need to grow. Can I have a drink when I get home?" All was well.

Then I realized...obviously there are life lessons, even in the rain and the sun. They are easy lessons that seem like one of those "Everything you learned in kindergarten" things. We all get it...rain and sun. God sends them both. But I was having a much easier time explaining it to Abigail than I do to myself. I know that in order to grow, in order to be the Amy God wants me to be, there has to be rain with the sun. There has to be nourishment and periods of growth. There has to be challenges along with the good. God equips us for every situation, and carries us through every situation. I hope that I can look at the moments of "rain" in my life, and explain them to myself as simply as I could explain its' necessity to Abigail.

2 Peter 1:3
His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.


I guess I am thirstier than I realize. And therefore, to grow me as He sees fit, it must rain. I don't think I would be so bold as to tell God "bring the rain", like I am firmly planted and ready for it, pouring down like it did today. But I hope that I can tell Him that when He sees fit to send it, I will accept it, to hopefully bring about a more firmly rooted me.