It’s raining and it feels good.
My eyes opened to see 4:32 on my bedside table this morning. My ears heard the comforting rhythm of rain dripping off our roof outside our open bedroom window. I rolled over, pulled the blanket over my shoulder, tucked it in under my chin and just felt good. Really good.
It was just after 5 when my stomach decided it was time to start the day. My comfy, fleece pajama pants and t-shirt were waiting for me in their normal spot near the door. I made every effort to be as quiet as possible while I put them on, gathered my phone off the nightstand and stepped over that one, squeaky floor board into the hall so as not to wake Robin.
My miniature schnauzer barely opened one eye to give me her lazy “good morning” as I headed past her curled up in her spot in my recliner and headed for the coffee maker. My morning routine commenced: opened the kitchen blinds, checked the Keurig water level, popped in a strong, French Roast K-cup and watched the rain make circles in the puddles in front of our house. I felt thankful.
And now I sit in the silence of this morning, listening to raindrops echoing lightly on the stovepipe above our roof. It feels good. Really good.
We need this soaking rain. I need this rain. I don’t know what I mean by that but, somehow, it just feels like it is refreshing me even though I am sitting listening to it and watching it water our little corner.
It’s Monday. There are few tasks on my list and nothing that is flashing or beeping for my attention. My muscles, sore from training for our upcoming 180 mile cycling adventure, are relaxed and sure that we will not be riding today, despite the little voice in my head trying to be heard with, “rain riding would be good for us.” Shhh.
It’s raining. Soaking in. Renewing. Refreshing. Washing.
It feels good.
“Let us try to know the Lord. He will come to us as surely as the day dawns, as surely as the spring rains fall upon the earth.” Hosea 6:3