Monday, June 15, 2009

Sittin’ in the Rain

We’ve had above average rainfall this spring, eight inches in one day last week. I don’t know why -- maybe because Father’s Day is coming up -- but today’s rain called to mind some yesterdays. Smelling the rain, I put everything aside and watched, listened, and remembered. In an instant, I was sitting on orange crates with my dad, watching the rain from just inside the basement garage door of our summer cottage. The garage opened onto the sloping driveway, so the water rushed toward us but was deflected into drains topped with Lake Michigan rocks. One of my summer chores was to clean out the rocks after rains to keep the drains clear.

I haven’t sat and watched the rain for years. As I did today, sweet memories of times with my dad flooded my mind like the waters flooding large puddles in front of me just now. I recalled running through puddles with him as a child, water skiing in the rain on the last day of high school summer vacation, and, as adults, playing tennis until it rained so hard we had to stop, all the while laughing our heads off. One summer, when lake levels got so high that the waves splashed onto the shore banks and over the roof to water the gardens behind the cottage, we even pretended it was raining.

My dad’s been safely tucked into his eternal rest for two years now, but today the lessons he taught me comforted me in his absence. The best part was thanking God for realizing now what my dad knew back then: God gives us little moments for our pleasure that we can easily miss or dismiss. My dad had the ability to translate the “rainy days of life” into sunny days. Daddy laughed in the rain and at the rain, always looking for the rainbow. He thanked God for the rain even as he steeled himself against storms. Come rain or shine, I knew my dad was a rock for our family and for me because of his faith in Christ, the Rock of our Salvation. Sure, we had good times and tough ones. In the end, though, nothing rained on our parade that we couldn’t handle by taking it to our Lord, the Creator of rain and sunshine!

My dad couldn’t carry a tune, but if he could, I know he would have enjoyed singing in the rain. Instead, I have memories of the two of us sittin’ in the rain. It was good -- and it still is. Next time it rains, maybe you’ll pause and let the Lord speak to your heart and soul. Let me know what you hear!

1 comment:

Melanie Wilson said...

You were blessed with a wonderful, involved father!