Friday night was a night spent enjoying the company of friends and fiddling my wits in the game of chess. Not to mention the all out rowdiness of Apples to Apples Bible Edition. Yes folks, the Fiery Furnace can be enjoyable. Needless to say, the thunderstorms of the evening added a certain ambiance to the atmosphere. After so many rounds of games, one where camels became delicious and plagues of frogs, well... silky, our brains started sloshing together adjectives and piling them with any noun that was available. A few of us filtered off to enjoy the rain.
I had been sitting there for what seemed like hours talking about life and all the upsets I was facing, droning on and on trying to figure out a way to get past them when I realized I was trying to do things on my own. I wasn't enjoying the silhouetted drops of rain. I started thinking back to my childhood and how at any given moment I would've busted down the doors to jump in a puddle or splash in the mud. At what point in life do we forget that? When does the rest of the world and our own minds become so loud that raindrops become silent and we can no longer hear the call of the puddles? That thought hit me at about the same time the constant drops turned to a downpour and I pulled off my shoes, let go of my annoying thoughts, and danced in the rain. From the moment the first drop hit to the time I was completely soaked (about thirty seconds) my thoughts,
my upsets, my worries, were gone. By dancing in the rain I had let go of myself and let the rain wash over me. I yelled at God asking him what he was trying to tell me; He answered with another downpour. But with that downpour I understood peace. I understood that He will cover me when I ask, even if it is in the rain. I felt a tug to splash a little bit more, to find a little more, and so I wandered across campus to the fountain. It'd been two years and I still hadn't been in. I traipsed down there with my friends and like a bunch of silly little five year olds, we ran in and around that fountain splashing each other and washing away adulthood.I still wonder when it is exactly that we lose the call of the rain, but I learned Friday night that it's something you can get back. You don't have to ignore that childlike heart that yearns, that begs you to dance in the rain sometimes. When I was kid, dancing in the rain, splashing in the flooded yard was my favorite activity. Why would I ever want to lose that?
Sometimes it's the rumble of thunder, the flashbulb of lightening, the tug of a friend, or the call of your heart that tells you to let go and do something. We shouldn't ignore those moments because sometimes, just always, those are the moments that flip a switch and change your life. It's not always controlled us forgetting how to dance in the rain... but it is our choice to learn how to again.
Rain Dance
Three years old
and it was one of those rain filled summer evenings.
Dark, damp, and cool was the night,
but the perfect summer rain was ever present.
The intense drops captured my eyes through the window
and I just wanted to play.
The absence of the rolling thunder
and the flashing lightening
made my fears diminish.
I was not scared of the rain-shower anymore.
It was Daddy's idea,
which I quickly agreed too.
We put on our tank tops
and bright floral shorts
and we were off.
Out to the backyard we ran.
With our arms outstretched and our mouth open wide.
We gladly welcomed the rain and let the water soak in.
Flash! went the camera
and the moment was captured forever.
I screamed like there was no tomorrow
afraid that the lightening had decided to show up.
But it was only the flashbulb,
paralyzing us in that moment forever.
It was a dance in the rain
and Dad was being a kid, just like me.
Three years old
and it was one of those rain filled summer evenings.
Dark, damp, and cool was the night,
but the perfect summer rain was ever present.
The intense drops captured my eyes through the window
and I just wanted to play.
The absence of the rolling thunder
and the flashing lightening
made my fears diminish.
I was not scared of the rain-shower anymore.
It was Daddy's idea,
which I quickly agreed too.
We put on our tank tops
and bright floral shorts
and we were off.
Out to the backyard we ran.
With our arms outstretched and our mouth open wide.
We gladly welcomed the rain and let the water soak in.
Flash! went the camera
and the moment was captured forever.
I screamed like there was no tomorrow
afraid that the lightening had decided to show up.
But it was only the flashbulb,
paralyzing us in that moment forever.
It was a dance in the rain
and Dad was being a kid, just like me.
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