It’s Raining
It’s raining…and has been for days. Ugh. No long walks. No friends coming out to play. Lots of dirty towels and extra baths because no one appreciates that Luca loves mud puddles. It’s been an overall miserable week.
And I have broken my media fast and have found myself caught up in the horror of the violence of the last week. The heartbreak reflects the weather. I can’t find the sun. My mind reaches out for the grieving families thrust into the spotlight with the unexpected trauma that touched them this month, and I pray for them and am hollow as I softly speak, but by the grace of God go I.
Because you see, when I was 17 years old, I went on a senior trip like so many young women - a right of passage society will call it - Panama City our destination. We wound up in a bar. I was pretty - some would say very pretty. Finding someone to buy an underage pretty girl a drink? As easy as a smile…
I loved to dance! Some will remember I was good at it. And I danced - all night long. My friends were ready to leave, but I wasn’t. They told me that if I didn’t go right then, they were going to leave me. I laughed and kept on dancing. I was young, and invincible, and having the time of my life. So they left. And the bar closed.
I was drunk and in a strange city and really had no idea where I was even staying. The guy I was dancing with said he would walk me back to my condo. So we started walking. I’d love to tell you his name, but I can’t. I remember he was from Kentucky. I do remember his face. He had tattoos. I remember liking that because I knew my mother would have hated them, and I was 17. I don’t remember how old he was, but I think he was 20. We walked maybe two miles because I sobered up along the way enough to figure out which condo complex was mine, and I found my car in the front of our unit. We simply sat on the beach until the sun came up. I thanked him for walking me home and taking care of me and being such a nice guy. And this next part I never forgot.
He looked me in the eye and grabbed my wrists - hard. He shook me a little and said, “You don’t know me. I’m not a good guy.” And he got up and walked away down the white sands of Panama City, Florida Beach.
When I became a mother, and I found out I was having daughters, that one experience drastically affected the way I parented them. I’ve thought a great deal over the years how differently that night could have been. Like I said, but by the grace of God go I.
So why was I spared from violence? Why did my life not end that night? Of course there are no answers to those questions. All I know is, “He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.” Matthew 5:45
That verse can be a real struggle for Christians. We want that Christian super power that exempts us from struggle and pain. No rain here, Lord! I am righteous! We see another young man’s life brutally cut short by the ones who are supposed to serve and protect. We read about yet another mass shooting. We get confused and say things like; “Was that the shooting in LA or Chicago?” We question if justice can even be found.
I admit I can get really discouraged. This week I have bitterly wept for the lives lost and the unspeakable grief of the families of Madi Brooks, Tyre Nichols, and all the victims of gun violence over the last week. My heart hurts. It’s raining. Hard. So what can I do? I feel utterly powerless. Despair has found a place. There is no sun in sight.
Therefore, everyone who hears my word and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain fell, the rivers rose, and the wind blew and pounded that house. Yet it didn’t collapse, because its foundation was on the rock. Matthew 7: 24-25
God gently nudges me back to the solid rock of my foundation. The foundation my family firmly cultivated in me from an early age. So deep go those roots, I'm not even sure I remember moments without them. Oh how thankful I am for that! But for those who may not have deep rooted seed. The ground may seem rocky or the river rushes so hard the soil has lost its grip. Do not be shaken. Do not collapse. Do not grow weary or tired. Just like the sun goes down every 24 hour cycle. It also rises. Just like every growing season, the freeze comes as does the warm breeze and tender new shoots.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heavens. Ecclesiastes 3:1
May you find some peace in the puddles and remember that no matter how hard it rains, if your house is built on His foundation of solid rock, you will stand, even when it rains.
Peace in the Puddles
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