On the Rain

It rained today.
I loved it. The rain felt more like spring than any of the sunshine we have had so far. Don't get me wrong, I love the increasing warmth as much as the next guy (actually, with my high cold tolerance, most people probably love the warmth a bit more than me), but water is life. Life falling from the heavens.
The wind swept the drops like mist into my face. I wore my glasses today and had to wipe them off every time I entered a building. I don't really mind. Cleaning your lenses is just the right balance of appearing intelligent and appearing nerdy at the same time.
I bet Monet liked to watch the rain falling on the French hills. I certainly hope he did. Monet is by far my favourite painter. Water often makes me think of his work. So many of his paintings that I like best have water in them. I love going to the river and looking at reflections in the water. They look like a Monet painting turned upside down. It is wonderful at night, standing above the riverbank, watching the current paint the streetlights in hurried brush strokes, making them come alive.
Rain drops on your glasses makes everything blurry. Colours cluster in splotches that vaguely resemble forms you've seen, almost the way you see them in memory.
There is a song about rain by the Newsboys that I always loved as a child. On the night before his execution, Peter addresses Jesus. He asks him to let it rain because water always reminds him of Jesus. It describes the times where Jesus interacted with water. So many. So often it was miraculous. It is still one of my most beloved songs.
"A new dawn is breaking. Another hour, and then I'll leave this place. I am ready Lord to give my life up. I'm so ready, Lord, to see Your face. Water like a promise, and in this final hour, I think my final prayer shall be: Would you let it rain?"
It was a grey day. Sometimes people call days like this ugly. I don't think so, and I don't always understand why others would. Perhaps they don't care for the inconvenience or the slight chill you get from water droplets running down your skin. I don't mind.
Not at all.
We haven't had a thunderstorm in quite some time. I love thunderstorms. I love all sorts of weather, truthfully. However, the thunderstorm is the king of weather. Nothing compares to that sort of might. Everyone respects the thunderhead and his deafening shout as his lightning rends the sky.
Wind has fascinated me for years. There are so many wonderful analogies to the wind. One that stands out comes from another song of my childhood. This one is by DC Talk. It is about the eternal. One of the most poetic ideas I have ever had is to be carried away by the wind. At least, I hope that's poetic. It seems like it should be, and I've put it in a couple poems, so that's good enough for me.
"Can you see God, have you ever seen Him? I've never seen the wind. I've seen the effects of the wind, but I've never seen the wind. There's a mystery to it."
I shout sometimes. Not very often by any means. Just the rare sometimes. One night last year, it was raining pretty hard. I was hoping for a really heavy storm. When my heart is heavy, I have a spot outside where I like to go to talk to God by myself. That is where I go to shout. That is where I went that night. I wanted to feel God's presence so badly. I wanted to feel. I wanted to cry. And I wanted it to storm, for the heavens to rage and let loose their fury so I could be awed by the majesty, the wonder of it all. I felt like, if the floodgates of heaven could be loosed, perhaps my tears could be as well.
I shouted that night. I'm pretty sure I sang the chorus of that song by the Newsboys.
I didn't see any lightning that night.
And I didn't cry.
And I didn't feel the presence of God overwhelm me in an instance and fill me with divine emotion.
But he was there. I know with absolute certainty that he was there. That was the closest I had ever felt to God. And he whispered rather than shouting. When my tears finally did come, and they came in a torrent, the Spirit fell on me with a fury and overwhelmed me. I never saw it coming.
I was walking today, and a strong breeze blew across my path. I kept walking, but I faced the wind and closed my eyes. It was heavenly, and probably a bit dangerous. I could have easily walked into another person, hurting us both. But it would have been worth it. For a moment I was gone. The wind swept over me like a gentle caress, baptizing me with tears of compassion.
"Let it rain. Lord, we're waiting for Your rain to fall. Let it rain, bringing back the wonder of it all; and I can see Your face again, when You let it rain. I can see Your face again, when You let it rain."
I lived today.