and the rain came down
A few weeks ago winter gracefully stepped aside and spring breezed in with all of her colors suddenly and vibrantly on display. We had a brief moment of warm and mellow sunshine which was quickly blotted out by the thick, oppressive cloud cover that my area of the world is known for. Although I enjoyed the chilly stillness of winter, when the rain came with spring I exhaled a breath that I hadn’t known I’d been holding. Rain is what I know. Rain is comforting and familiar. It means snuggling up under a quilt with a good book and a hot cup of peppermint tea. Rain gives me peace.
I remember one afternoon last spring; both of my children were down for their afternoon naps, and the storm that had been slowly rolling in all day finally burst overhead. Thunder boomed and hail fell in sheets so thick the street was a river within minutes. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and dashed outside, huddling beneath the overhang on our front porch. The sound of wind and water filled my ears and I closed my eyes, inhaling the fresh smell of sudden rain. My senses were consumed by the incredible force of it all, and I felt so completely safe. There I stood, mere inches from the freezing water, protected by my blanket and my solid home behind me.
I treasure that memory, because the security I felt was so rare for me. I’m frightened of so many things. My imagination creates the most horrific scenarios, and if I pay attention to them it seems like my family is in constant danger. Everywhere I go, every corner or alley or shadow I pass holds the possibility of evil hiding in wait. In those rare and precious moments when that fear is forgotten, or drowned out by the roar of a spring thunderstorm, I am flooded with such a blessed comfort and relief. I wish I could bottle up that feeling, the Absence of Fear, and carry it with me to hold beneath my nose like a smelling salt. Every whiff would remind me of the serenity of that stormy spring afternoon… the rain and hail pounding all around me, the cool wind prickling my cheeks, and the shelter of my home and my blanket all that I need to keep me safe.







