Life is chalk-full of storms. Some are easier to weather than others, but one thing remains the same – they are inevitable. Every day that I live life, it seems I am forever humbled by it. I say this, knowing full well that I do not begin most days in humility. My natural tendency is to bolster my pride in an attempt to wrestle with God, somehow thinking my limited knowledge is somehow better than His. Creature of habit that I am, I look at life with the obtuse perception of a mole. In other words, in my own weakness, I really don’t see clearly at all. And so, at the end of the day, when I am simply exhausted from the fight, I relent: humbled, and often, admittedly, a bit broken. Ok, sometimes a lot broken.

I’m completely amazed by those who have learned not only to sing in the rain, but also acknowledge its inescapable presence and still dance in spite of it. It’s as if they have arrived at a place in their relationship with the Lord that they can say beforehand, Lord, let it rain. They have learned that come what may, the Lord remains the same. So, with gut determination, they have chosen in advance to follow and obey despite whatever may presently surround them. This is not to say that pain is welcomed with open arms, but neither does it hold an incapacitating grip on their life.

I’ve known the grip of paralyzing fear. Many of my days in this life have already been spent wandering through her rainstorms. Some have been such torrential downpours I thought for sure they would overcome me. Then grace happened. Beautiful, merciful grace – my God’s grace. With the tenderness of a loving father, God poured his presence on my hopeless situation and with a strong arm, capable of moving mountains; He bent down and lifted my crestfallen head with a whisper. With an outstretched palm he took hold of my hand and held within His own my shattered heart. In those moments, God became real and His hold on my life irrevocable. Pain proved there was no turning back. Pain showed God was who he said He was, who He always had been, and who He always will be. In the midst of life’s unforgiving rain, the reality of God’s power and promise of His presence broke through pain’s ability to grip and rob me of deep joy. Psalm 126:5 states, “Those who reap in tears will reap with songs of joy.” That is a promise. It’s a song of hope for those whom are all too familiar with trial, and whose tears have fallen one to many times on the pillow nobody sees. God sees though, and he promises that a day will come when those tears will be traded in for joy – overwhelming and unbridled joy. So, let it rain. I’m not afraid of it any long either. Perfect love casts out all fear, and surely God’s perfect love goes with me in the rain.