Walk in the Rain

The rain, it falls because the wet is heavy and it needs somewhere to go. Tonight it falls in Germany. And the thunder, it echoes through the hills and the lightning lights the sky in the dark night as the lamps flicker and then go flat. The youngest, she cries for unknown storms, and she knows these storms from home and she doesn’t like them there either. But the lights return even as the wet keeps falling and the lightning show outside announces its lingering with loud claps and strong wind that blows over the chair on our balcony. I can’t hug away the tears because fear, it holds tighter than my arms can squeeze. So we pray. And then my man announces a sleepover in our bedroom for our first stormy night in this foreign land.

We wake up to more rain in the new of the day. Calmer, subdued wet that slides down window panes and readies these hearts for a day inside. Sunday in Germany brings new church time routine. One that allows pj’s and bare feet in the middle of the living room. So we find our way through the rainy from the dry of our sanctuary. And we welcome it wholly, distant thunder and all, as our hearts wonder at the rain of His love and How He Loves Us. Amazing what True Love will do for fear. Amazing what rain will do for soil.

I walk when the rain stops, soak in the after of the saturated land in the hills above Waischenfeld. It feels good to get out from behind the windows, to walk the outside and breathe in the fresh of the wheat fields and wildflowers. I walk my new route, then another one to the right.

I see clouds beyond the fields and wonder if I’m walking in one. Am I living in the clouds right here in Germany?

I see snails, so many snails, big ones, fanning themselves, creeping along my new path. Eating.

I find another crossroads. It leads through the forest. I wonder if this is the one Red Riding Hood found before she met that nasty old wolf. I wander in a few steps and look up. Then around. I decide to wait on the Little Red Riding Hood part of this adventure, so I turn around and hoof it back to the other new road.

I walk all the way to what seems like the end before I turn around. So many rolling hills filled with wheat and who-knows-what. I think about dancing in the middle of the fields, twirling about and singing about the hills and how truly alive they feel right now. Then I wonder if Maria ever worried about ticks. So I laugh and I look and I find another snail. I giggle with delight because these snails, they are so big.

And I think about the rain and the soft ground and how rain makes it easier to make a mark in the ground. And the rain, when it falls and it scares my little girl, it makes for better soil in the ground that is her heart.

And I think about the rain and how sometimes it falls hard on my life, and I forget that it’s a good thing and that God makes His mark in such soil as this. So I thank Him for the wet that falls, even when I don’t like the storm that brings it.

It starts sprinkling again, and I am almost home now. But my heart, it is full, so I try to capture the awe of the beauty surrounding me. But I can’t possibly. So I just walk home. And my feet, they are dirty with the soil I have trod.