I enjoyed a few minutes this morning looking out the window.
I woke up to the peaceful sound of rain and the comfort of gentle thunder, and it was most pleasant. What a gift to receive when the day first begins.
Drops of rain in a brownish grayish puddle on the patio are beautiful. The tiny ripple circles create a picture that cannot be duplicated. At least not exactly duplicated.
I thought of the rain and how welcome it is in my solitary world, but how unwelcome it is to others right now. How the rain is necessary for May flowers and green grass, but how devastating it is when pouring into a basement or pushing cars downstream. A good thing to some can be detrimental to others.
And then, I sat down at the table to read. Matthew 7. Two people. Two homes. What to the world looks like stability and beauty, can actually end up looking much different when the foundation is tested and the rains begin to fall.
Rain to the wise man only bolsters his decision to have prepared, to take care of his foundation for the times when the clouds would form and the floods arrived. He can weather the storm because he did it the right way from the very beginning, even when it meant more work and less fun.
But rain to the foolish man forces him to notice the lack of preparation and absence of care to his home. He had time, lots of time, to do things the right way, to notice the leaks and the weak places. He had gone to school and learned the building trade. But HE chose where to build and how to build. HE chose to make it look pretty on the outside while ignoring the heart of the structure.
For so many years, I lived a life of sweeping things under the rug, of covering up the ugly and unfinished, of putting a wreath on the door and keeping that door closed to the outside world. It was easier to go about the business of smiling and wearing the mask, hanging the wreath that said, “All is well, I’m good, don’t bother me,” while avoiding the conflict in order to not deal with the crap.
And my foundation crumbled when I least expected.
I am grateful today that I serve the God who created the rainbow. Because I needed a rainbow after the storm came, the flood swept away the foundation, and I was left standing in the muck.
I am grateful that my faulty foundation is gone and I am now building on a rock. THE Rock.
I am grateful that my life is full of “rocks” who lift me up and support me when I’m weak on my own.
And I am grateful to see beauty and promise when the rain falls and I now, most of the time, recognize it as a gift.