After the Rain

It’s raining here today.  As a kid, rain was a comfort to me.  Not sure why.  The louder and more demonstrative the storm, the better I felt.  I wonder sometimes if it was just my way of feeling heard.  I did not know how to address or articulate the storm inside me so I quietly celebrated the literal storm and it’s demonstration for me. 

I’ve written before about my favorite Psalm, Psalm 18.  It’s my favorite for many reasons. I call it my “testimony”, my “life chapter” and other titles  One of the things that drew me in this Psalm is how God is described in His approach to the one He is saving: 

Then the earth shook and quaked;
And the foundations of the mountains were trembling
And were shaken, because He was angry.
Smoke went up out of His nostrils,
And fire from His mouth devoured;
Coals were kindled by it.
He bowed the heavens also, and came down
With thick darkness under His feet.
10 He rode upon a cherub and flew;
And He sped upon the wings of the wind.
11 He made darkness His hiding place, His canopy around Him,
Darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies.
12 From the brightness before Him passed His thick clouds,
Hailstones and coals of fire.
13 The Lord also thundered in the heavens,
And the Most High uttered His voice,
Hailstones and coals of fire.
14 He sent out His arrows, and scattered them,
And lightning flashes in abundance, and routed them.”

The first time I read this I practically yelled out “YES!”  Everything in me cheered!  Here was MY God coming to rescue me and I delighted in the storm He created as He made His way through the heavens toward little me at the depths of the sea. 

Yeah.  This was my kind of storm. 

storm

Then, the rain would stop.  The storm delights me.  It speaks of a God who breathes fire in His anger at what’s been done to me.  But, it’s after the rain that I’m struck with wonder.  The sun glistening off the wet trees.   The brightness of the green.  There is a stillness after a rain that is mesmerizing.

After the rain.

after rain

As a child, I would stand at our window in the living room after the rain and press my face against the cool glass trying to drink in the peacefulness of the scene in front of me.  It was a little piece of heaven in my living hell.

God speaks to us in different ways.  The rain is still a reminder to me of how He met me as a child.  Though I could not hear His sweet voice through all the noise of the chaos inside me, I could press up against that window after a rain and feel Him permeating my being and for a moment, I felt peace.  How good of God to reach us in our darkest places!  How sweet of Him to bring us in for a touch of Him even though we aren’t able to even know what we need or how to ask for it. 

He still draws me after the rain. 

The healing rain. 

After the rain. . . Peace . . . Wonder . . . Amazement . . . Sweetness.

RESTORE~ation.

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