Dancing in the Rain
We don't have many warm rains here, in western Nebraska. Most summer rains are accompanied by thunder and lightning, and gusty wind, and a sudden drop in temperature. Our spring and fall rains are usually frigid, like yesterday's rain. Here, we usually wait out the rain, because we know that the sun's rays will soon warm us up again.
But, I remember other times and places, where the rain was almost as warm as my morning shower. Sometimes, I find myself longing for an all-day summer rain, like those gentle rains I experienced in Traverse City. When it rained there, I simply donned a brightly colored rain poncho, and worked in the garden as usual.
The afternoon rain in Jamaica is heavenly; it pounds down briefly, nearly every day, just long enough to remove some of the heavy humidity from the air. Then, the clouds melt away within a few minutes so we can go about our business. Meagan and Erin still talk about the time we stayed in the pool, gasping for breath while the warm rain poured down on our heads. We were perfectly safe, because Jamaican showers rarely come with thunder and lightning.
When I was seventeen, I traveled to the east coast with a group of Lutheran teens and a few adult leaders. After we canvassed a Norfolk, Virginia, neighborhood one misty morning, passing out VBS flyers, we hung around the church, just waiting for the rain to stop so we could go to the beach. Finally, four of us girls gave up, and went for a walk in the rain that had increased from a dreary drizzle to a steady downpour. We might have packed some rain ponchos, but we didn't wear them. We didn't use umbrellas, either. Instead, we splashed through the puddles, and spun in circles with our faces tilted toward the sky so we could feel the raindrops on our faces. When we returned to the church, still chattering and giggling, we were thoroughly drenched and completely invigorated. It was almost as satisfying as a day at the beach.
I still remember my very first rainy-day experience, when Mom bundled me up so I could trudge though the spring rain, across the muddy lane, to find Dad, who was working out in the barn. It didn't end the way I had been expecting. Click here to read about my first adventure in the rain.
By the time I was five years old, we had moved from the farm to a house in Norfolk, Nebraska. One rainy afternoon, Mom must have been tired of keeping me quietly occupied while Danny napped, so she helped me change into an old pair of red shorts and a matching, cropped peasant blouse, and sent me outside, barefoot, to splash in the puddles and dance in the rain. I remember running up and down the sidewalk, from one corner of the block to the other, peering at the worms floating helplessly in the gutters, twirling around and around, holding my umbrella up high over my head. That magical day, I had the whole sidewalk to myself.
I am hoping for a warm, rainy day this summer, but not too soon. Maybe in August, when we need a break from the endless hot, summer days that are sure to come. Maybe in early September, when the North Platte River is no longer flooding the lowlands. Right now, I'm tired of this spring's abundant, cold rain. Now, I'm longing for sunny summer days and just a little warm, gentle rain, so I can go outside and splash through some puddles, and maybe even dance.
But, I remember other times and places, where the rain was almost as warm as my morning shower. Sometimes, I find myself longing for an all-day summer rain, like those gentle rains I experienced in Traverse City. When it rained there, I simply donned a brightly colored rain poncho, and worked in the garden as usual.
The afternoon rain in Jamaica is heavenly; it pounds down briefly, nearly every day, just long enough to remove some of the heavy humidity from the air. Then, the clouds melt away within a few minutes so we can go about our business. Meagan and Erin still talk about the time we stayed in the pool, gasping for breath while the warm rain poured down on our heads. We were perfectly safe, because Jamaican showers rarely come with thunder and lightning.
When I was seventeen, I traveled to the east coast with a group of Lutheran teens and a few adult leaders. After we canvassed a Norfolk, Virginia, neighborhood one misty morning, passing out VBS flyers, we hung around the church, just waiting for the rain to stop so we could go to the beach. Finally, four of us girls gave up, and went for a walk in the rain that had increased from a dreary drizzle to a steady downpour. We might have packed some rain ponchos, but we didn't wear them. We didn't use umbrellas, either. Instead, we splashed through the puddles, and spun in circles with our faces tilted toward the sky so we could feel the raindrops on our faces. When we returned to the church, still chattering and giggling, we were thoroughly drenched and completely invigorated. It was almost as satisfying as a day at the beach.
I still remember my very first rainy-day experience, when Mom bundled me up so I could trudge though the spring rain, across the muddy lane, to find Dad, who was working out in the barn. It didn't end the way I had been expecting. Click here to read about my first adventure in the rain.
By the time I was five years old, we had moved from the farm to a house in Norfolk, Nebraska. One rainy afternoon, Mom must have been tired of keeping me quietly occupied while Danny napped, so she helped me change into an old pair of red shorts and a matching, cropped peasant blouse, and sent me outside, barefoot, to splash in the puddles and dance in the rain. I remember running up and down the sidewalk, from one corner of the block to the other, peering at the worms floating helplessly in the gutters, twirling around and around, holding my umbrella up high over my head. That magical day, I had the whole sidewalk to myself.
I am hoping for a warm, rainy day this summer, but not too soon. Maybe in August, when we need a break from the endless hot, summer days that are sure to come. Maybe in early September, when the North Platte River is no longer flooding the lowlands. Right now, I'm tired of this spring's abundant, cold rain. Now, I'm longing for sunny summer days and just a little warm, gentle rain, so I can go outside and splash through some puddles, and maybe even dance.
He covers the sky with clouds; He supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills. Psalm 147:8
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