here goes nothing. here it comes again.

what's being done.. a little rainy day writing..

When it rains, that is when I feel closest to my friend. Pieces of heaven coming down, bridging the distance in between. I can’t remember a rainier springtime than this past spring, and you are always there in the rain; I always find you there. Maybe rain showers are God’s way, one of His many ways, of helping us continue to stay in touch. In those brief moments, when the rain splashes and sinks down, you’re here again. And, just as it always has, the rain offers up, as it falls down, a sense of comfort when it is needed most.

Today is no different. This lazy, sun-stricken Sunday afternoon in August, when the clouds surprised me in their impulsive strain to rid themselves of rain as quickly as they can. It’s as if God yelled “hop!” to everyone in heaven, and suddenly their footprints against the rain-laden puffs triggered the downpour.

I flinch. A jolt of unannounced thunder cracks against the windowpane. One jarring clap from God, signaling his hoppers to now jump until the clouds are drained entirely. Faint rumbles of thunder crawl across the sky, piercing every so often, shaking the clouds nearly-empty, then slowly receding until they can no longer be heard.

The rain begins to slow. I imagine the jumpers are growing tired, ready for a nap that most assuredly comes after a rainstorm such as this. One by one, the jumpers cease as soon as their job is done. One jumper to water the flowers that now sing thanksgiving; one to soak the thirsty ground; one to fill the forgotten birdbaths; and one to coax a writer into journaling once again.

I see your job has yet to be finished. In my mind, you, my friend, are still jumping, ever-so-lightly, freeing the white patches in the sky of all they have left to give. At least for today. As the final raindrops give and gather, I realize what your task must be when God calls on his jumpers - to remind and surround those who know you best when they miss you the most.