Maybe It's the Rain but More Than Likely It's God (Joel 2:23)

 Maybe it is the rain, but I doubt it. More than likely, it is the umbrella that makes the difference.

If you’ve read my blog, over time you’ve learned that as a child I loved rain, but I loved rain not so much because of the rain itself (I’ve learned most grown-ups don’t love it, you know). I loved rain because when I was with my grandmother (who faithfully watched Lawrence Welk on his TV show that ran from the 50s to the 80s), the rain caused the music came out in me all the time (piano in the house, too) but especially when it rained. 

I had also seen at some point (no idea where, but maybe with her when it came on TV or with my mom—definitely not Daddy) Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain. There were no black lampposts in the yard to hop on and dance, but there were plenty of puddles on the farm, and when she let me—and Grandmother did let me—probably to get me out of her hair for a moment of peace and quiet—go outside and play in it, I did and loved every second of it. Singing. Loudly. Under my umbrella.

Maybe that’s why I associate rain with joy—the music—the umbrella—the memories it now invokes.

It rained yesterday. All day. It was cold. It was inconvenient. People’s shoes squeaked on the polished floors at school as children and adults walked up and down the hall tracking in the rain they had just slugged through. And I loved it (much more than the janitors). I pulled out my happy umbrella with the decorative yellow flower on the inside when one looks up, and I used it happily. No complaints with me. Yesterday I wasn’t worried about getting wet like I used to. I just parked the car and pulled out the umbrella and walked in the school.  

Sometimes life rains on us. It is unavoidable. We get soaked in the problems that come our way, whether they be health issues (our own or someone we love dearly), financial trouble, temptations, a job that doesn’t satisfy (even if it provides), difficult people in our lives, a marriage that has gone sour, kids that don’t obey, the death of loved ones, and the list could go on and fill pages of books.

What happens when life rains on me? Do I pull out my umbrella and smile at life, enjoying it regardless of the circumstances that will pass (because honestly, they will, one way or the other)?

In this metaphor, what is my umbrella? Or better yet, WHO is my umbrella? Do I look to Christ alone to fill my needs. Do I trust Him on the darkest days? Do I even know enough about Him to sustain me when the rain obscures the light, and I’m feeling soaked with the cares of life? Do I entertain the joys of my salvation or ponder constantly the source of irritation, the rain in my life?

If it rains today, I don’t know about you, but I will pull out my umbrella and walk out into the rain protected, and I will sing to my God as I walk. Sometimes it’s messy. The floor gets dirty. I mop occasionally. ;) And life goes on. The rain stops. The sun comes out. God is still on His throne regardless of the circumstances.

Lord, please let my song always be for you when the rainy days of life fall on me, and let it be loud and joyful.

"Be glad, people of Zion [and Notasulga], rejoice in the LORD your God, for he has given you the autumn rains because he is faithful. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains . . ." (Joel 2:23).