It rained this morning. Now normally in our rain-drenched part of the world, this wouldn't be worth mentioning. Indeed, June is almost always gloomy and dark and no one minds being in school most of the way through it. Our summers usually begin (with something of a whimper) in July, pick up steam in August and are gloriously sunny well into September. But this has been no ordinary year. In deep mid-winter, we had snow and sub-freezing weather for quite a spell--long enough that my weeping rosemary died. The other day, after a fruitless search for a replacement (I use rosemary all the time in cooking!), I finally found some and commented to the nursery owner about my once beautiful trailing rosemary which had died an untimely death in the deep snow. The owner (60 years old and newly sporting a pierced ear in celebration) told me that EVERYONE's rosemary died this year, and the tiny plants I'd bought were the first ones his suppliers had grown.
But, as usual I digress...my point is, it's been warm and sunny here in the Pacific Northwest, so much that we were all sporting our summer tans (complete with sock and t-shirt lines for my mowing family) by the first of June, and the weather didn't break. Just last night my nephew (visiting from So Cal) told me we'd had 27 straight days of sun. Twenty-seven stinkin' days, 27 glorious, life-regenerating sun-flooded days. And I've loved every minute of them, though I have had to water the heck out of my herbs and potted plants (shades of, "What do I look like, a potted plant?"--Name that reference! Hint: think the Watergate congressional hearings). My flowers are blooming wildly but we sure could use some rain.
So we were sitting in our family room last night, watching "Slumdog Millionaire" when, through the open windows, I heard a suspicious sound. "Is that rain?" I asked Beve. "I don't know," he answered. He'd clearly forgotten what it sounds like.
And this morning, the ground is clearly soaked, the lawn furniture covers are dripping with water and the blue sky has its own cloudy cover on it. And I'm grateful for it. Love the sun, recognize the need for the rain.
There are parts of this world that have gone without rain for a really long time. Here, we kind of take our cloud bursts for granted. But the truth is, rain is a gift, and our rain-heavy corner of the world is green, and lush with trees that soar overhead and ferns that cover the earth and enough water to do whatever we need or want only is what it is because of that gift.
We have to trust the rains in our life, I think. Trust that Father God (and 'mother nature--which is really Him) knows what He's doing in the storms. No matter how hard the rain falls, there is good in it. And that makes me glad.