When I was a child I loved singing Al Jolson’s 1921 hit, “April Showers.” The lyrics include: “Though April showers may come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May…It isn’t raining rain, you know, it’s raining violets.”

Since living in Scotland, I’ve quit singing that song.

I spent many years in the northern Nevada desert which gets an average of four inches of rain a year. I spent many years in the Texas Hill Country which gets an average of 34 inches a year. Dunoon, Scotland, averages 312 inches a year. So far in September, it has rained nearly every day. Savannah’s towels are hung up all over the house to dry. My shoes are on top of a radiator waiting for the heat to come on. The other radiator is covered with my wooly hats and gloves from yesterday’s dog walk.

By the time I finished walking Savannah in the wind and rain this morning and made it into the store, my fingers were so cold that I couldn’t feel the avocados to see if they were ripe. I didn’t spend long in the store—my feet were so wet and cold that I wanted to get home and exchange my footwear for dry socks and slippers. No good to scold me for not wearing rain-proof shoes. I wear size 11 shoes and UK women’s shoes go up to size 9. The only reason the slippers fit is that they were a Christmas gift from the U.S. last year.

The last few years I lived in the Texas Hill Country it was in a building with a metal roof and no air conditioning—on 108F degree summer days. My entire life, up until 15 years ago when I arrived in Scotland was spent living in places that got up into the high 90s during summer—mostly with no air conditioning. Conversely, here in Dunoon, Scotland, the average temperature ranges from 35F to 64F, and it rarely gets above 71F.

The purpose of this blog is not to criticize or complain. Scotland is a lovely country from coast to coast with a wealth of history and historic sites to visit. The people are as lovely as their country and have welcomed and embraced me. Were it only for the wonderful folks and the stunning views, I would stay in Scotland until Jesus calls me home instead of leaving at the end of this month.

But the rain. The last violets I remember seeing were on my grandmother’s window sill in the sunny south U.S.A. April showers don’t bring May flowers in abundance here—it’s still too cold for them to bloom.

The point of this blog is to encourage all of us to soften the hammer of judgment. When we meet others who seem strange and weird to our way of thinking, we should temper our quick negative response. Perhaps they are merely out of place flowers seeking sunshine so they can bloom.

Jesus warned, “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.” Matthew 7:1

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