Joyful that it was out, I spun around to look into the sun…and found it was a streetlight. It was nine o’clock in the morning and so rainy and misty that all the street lights were still on. Rain. And. Then. Some.
A worker was out diligently mowing a huge expanse of grass with a handheld weed eater. Here in Scotland, they call them strimmers. I was astonished. I had never seen anyone out mowing the grass before in the rain. Then I remembered: it rains here every day. Rain. And. Then. Some.
Sometimes our lives are filled with rain—and—then some. Illness, pain, relationship problems, financial worries, tragedy…unremitting storms rock our lives and threaten to capsize our joy and scuttle our desire to keep on sailing.
When that happens, it is easy to distance oneself from God and question His existence. Why would an all-powerful, all-knowing, always-present God let bad things happen? Why would He allow bad things to happen to us?
Rain. And. Then. Some. But every raindrop, every dreary day presents an opportunity to draw close to God and build our faith. Without storms to strengthen them, tree roots would not dig into the soil and tether mighty trees. If our lives were easy, filled with fun, sunshiny days, we would never mature and grow equal to the task of living full, abundant lives.
The same rain that makes us groan when we focus on our discomfort sends a shower of beauty across the land and provides life-giving moisture for all of God’s creation. Rain. And. Then. Some.