MJ and I drove through torrential rain yesterday on the way to St. Louis. It had been a while. I did not enjoy driving in hard rain when I was younger, when it seemed many of our trips to Tennessee involved it, and I still don’t enjoy the downpour when you can’t see where you are going. A bit like life. There are times when it is almost impossible to see your path. I felt as capable as my youthful torrential navigation; I was no longer sure of my ability. As we segue into the Golden Years, we become more careful. We have seen rain before. We have been soaked. We caught the sniffles. I walked the Campus in my favorite wool sports coat in such rain that I was wet through. The wool smelled like a wet lamb.

We need the rain; we say we want the rain; then, when it comes, we want the rain to quit. We do not like to be wet. Warm, dry, and happy we seek. But the rain makes us grow. This is what we are told. Neva J often asked,’ Will the rain hurt the rhubarb?’ I wondered what rhubarb was.

In my working years, I dreaded heavy, continuous rain. Many of the Campus buildings leaked. Some flooded badly. A little rain was welcome, and a little more was not. So it goes when the rain will not stop. Farmers need rain, not floods.

We, humans, need our spirits refreshed. Rain from Heaven stirs our hearts and gives us strength to continue. Have you ever heard the scripture read dryly? Have you ever heard the word of God read with a little rain from Heaven sprinkled on it? There is a big difference.

Most of life, we walk by faith and not by sight…but then there are those moments of rain, and our path becomes clear when the sun comes out.