Rain!

I almost forgot there was such a thing. The crunchy grass seems to be stretching up, drinking deeply. The 100-degree heat has prematurely grilled the grass. We've struggled to keep our precious plants watered. But today, at last, the rain has come, quenching the gasping landscape.

We usually complain about rain. It spoils our picnics, soaks our sports and makes a mess of proms, weddings and Easter Sunday. Yet when the rain tarries, we start to see rain afresh. We pray for it, long for it, sigh for it's absence. We want the rain to come, to satiate the vegetables, placate the pachysandra.

In a similar vein, today Kelly and I went to a friend's funeral. The young husband of a fellow homeschooling mom gave up a valiant battle against cancer. He died on Independence Day, prompting the pastor to remark, accurately, that it was his first Independence Day of true Freedom. The rain that came today is like the rain coming into the life of my friend. It brings the clouds of sorrow, but it brings cleansing tears. This young man doesn't have to fight any more, doesn't have to hurt or struggle. It is a dark cloud for my friend and her daughter, even as it quenches the dessert of the unknown, even as it washes the painful path of loss.

It seems to me that death could have been better designed.