Rain

James 5:7 Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.



It's raining today in Daytona Beach. The sun is hiding behind thick dark gray clouds. It's quiet, the whistle of the birds have ceased. The trees sway, the plants bend but don't break. I stare silently out the window watching each drop as it hit the window; some stick to the screen in massive bulk while others explode into minuscule particles, some strike and roll silently down leaving a trail of rainwater tears.

I love the rain, the sound of it on the roof or beating against the windows; the calm, peace and stillness it brings, but mostly I love the memories it brings to mind. Today the rain handed me a most precious memory. I was about five or six years old.

I come from a family that had an usual fear of thunder storms, all lights and other electrical appliance had to be unplugged or turned off, windows had to be closed and the curtains drawn and we would have to sit crossed legged in the hallway and not speak, as if we were in some kind of bombing raid or natural catastrophe. As always on this particular rainy day I was the last one in the house, mainly because I like the way the rain felt on my skin so I lingered outside until it started. When I finally reached the inside my grandmother sternly reminded me that "Dogs have sense enough to get out of the rain," she advised me to take off my wet cloths before I caught my death. I used to imagine that death was like a big red ball, large bright and easily caught. I remember the warmth of the towel as she dried my hair, the statically clinging of the fresh clothes. I remember sitting it that hallway, warm, dry, safe and protected, surround by a family that loved me. I think rain always bring me that feeling of security. It keeps the bad things out and closes you up in that blessed calm, it stills you to blossom you.

I loved that Jesus waits for the fruit of the earth. His multicolored beautiful blooms, the early and latter rain.