epic rain

In New Hampshire this morning, we are yet again plodding through puddles and keeping a stiff upper lip (although, it's quivering) as we face another rainsoaked summer day. Its getting downright epic.

Perhaps it's because of the tough economy, another grim reality we all share, that the rain feels like some grand-scale metaphor. We know it will stop, it could stop any time. Just like hope - the prospect of the sun peeking out is still present despite the forecast. Today, in Hillsborough County, we have a flash-flood warning and meteorologists are trotting out verbs like "ponding" to describe how the rain is behaving in our streets. Ponding, pooling, creeping, soaking, and pounding; the language that is being exercised on the news is making vividly real the very serious nature of what is normally just a nuisance. On the last report I heard, the meteorologist wished us a safe morning, which actually made me nervous!

Yet, it is a holiday weekend: July 4th will still mean freedom celebrations, parades, bar-b-ques and fireworks, thankfully. We all need to get some joy - even from under tents and peering out of windows as we try to dry out. And, joy, we will get, because being together is fun, even in the rain.

Return, O my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. Psalm 116:7

Do you ever talk to yourself? In this verse, David is telling his soul to shake off the blues and get a grip. This is not glib bright-siding. This is truth that is just as true as rain. God is blessing me and I am blessed. Blessing, good fortune, laughter, happiness, (and all the synonyms for it) is still here even in the tough times. I don't think King David, whose life was hanging in the balance because so many people wanted to kill him all the time, was drawing a happy face in the sand when he spoke those words to his own soul, and hoping it would help. Strangely enough, David was also a phenomenal songwriter. It is as if his life made him have to sing. To say this another way, I think King David (who was the great-great-great-great......grandfather of Jesus) made a life practice to stop, look around, and change chairs. I think he was sitting in a new chair and looking at the one where he'd been spending too much time: the one where he was so anguished, he cried all day long.

I want to sit in a new chair too. Sounds like a plan. Maybe I'll sing a little too.