There was a point in my life where I loved a good rain.
I was a puddle-jumping, raindrop-dodging, joyously-drenched kind of a kid.
Even when my kids were little, we’d be outside in a storm, jumping in ankle-deep puddles and not caring a flying fig about mud.
It was the perfect prelude to a hot shower.
That changed at some point. I’m now a hoodie-wearing, umbrella-toting, rain-averse kind of a person. Not wanting the inconvenience of getting wet. Usually not attired appropriately for the soaked look.
Don’t want my hair messed.
This past weekend we had some unexpected rain.
And I was caught umbrellaless. Having a cotton hoodie, which is the same as teasing a bull with a red cloak.
Come and get me, rain.
Visions of the Wicked Witch of the West in Oz came to mind. “Help me, I’m melting!”
In the few moments it took to get thoroughly soaked, there was a sense of freedom. Of release.
I sloshed through the deepest puddles, grateful for my soccer flops. (A point of despair for my kids–I can dress up like an adult and still wear those rubber shoes.)
As the rain soaked me, my thoughts of the week were able to soak into my head and heart. The wetter I got, the more my thinking cleared.
Ideas about treating and valuing EVERY person with the worth they were created to receive. Different isn’t bad–it’s the opportunity to grow and appreciate what isn’t my normal. Being willing to take the back seat and not need to be recognized.
But if I never get out in the rain, I’d miss the changing cloud shapes and that first peek at rainbows. I’d not pay attention to how the rain cleans and freshens the air and dirty sidewalks.
If I don’t let myself get uncomfortable with how I see things, I’ll never grow as a person.
Could be why a great many people feel stuck.
The lyrics from the song “Oceans”, by Hillsong, keep going through my head.
Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders, Let me walk upon the waters, wherever You would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander; and my faith will be made stronger In the presence of my Savior.
I don’t want to limit what I think I can understand. I don’t want to live ignoring truths that are bigger than I might be able to grasp. I want to trust God to take me to places that will grow me as a person and allow me to appreciate His presence in this very confusing world.
Yes, it’s easier, more comfortable, to stay dry.
But there’s something very freeing about allowing myself to get wet.
I want to learn to go deeper than I’ve ever wandered so He can strengthen my faith in the arena of uncomfortable.
Are you willing?