The Sound of Rain

A steady rain is falling on this lovely Sunday evening.  As I washed dishes, gazing out at the falling rain, I felt a sudden urge to open the window and hear the beautiful, rhythmic pattering of this life-giving downpour.  As I listened, I could almost see the clover and grass and trees and flowers growing...  At least I could imagine an even more lush yard filled with beautiful, varying shades of green and accented by white, yellow, pink, purple, and blue flowers, all having been encouraged to grow and blossom, in part, by the very rain now descending.

I also thought briefly of the many recordings of "The Sounds of Rain" I have seen over the years.  It seems there is something in this sound that is universally appealing to human beings, and I suspect that "something" is linked to an innate understanding that rain means the eventual growth of flora that enrich our vistas and if not feeding our bodies directly, doing so indirectly via the great, unending food chain.

Rain, life-promoting and life-sustaining rain, is good.

Even so, when we speak of difficult times in our lives, we think in terms of rain.  We speak of "rainy days," "downpours" and "storms of life."  To be sure, rain can be damaging, but I don't know...  I guess the point I want to make is that even the toughest, stormiest days of our lives can bring growth and beauty.  It's easy to look back, after the storms, and discover how we have grown and what beauty has blossomed as a result of our suffering, but what about during the storms?  How do we view the falling rain, as a curse or a blessing?  Do we dread a disordered future or live in the hope of good to come?  Do we trust that the rains of life are working to birth in our lives lush greenery and brilliant blossoms - deep beauty to be enjoyed in the sweet warmth of a sunny day that will eventually dawn?

I hope we trust, and trust enough to see the beauty before its birth.