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Meditation: Rain

I love listening to the rain.  It comes and yet there is more than sound to it.  There is power in those trillions of drops.  The earth absorbs the rain and from that there is abundant growth.  Rain sustains life.  Rain sustains us.  We would die without rain.

We use umbrellas to keep us from getting wet.  We devise all sorts of ways to keep the rain at bay.  I remember seeing a little boy running in the rain.  He laughed as he ran and had his mouth open and his tongue out. He did not mind getting wet.  In fact, he seemed to love it.  He ran and ran through it, his mouth wide open, drinking the rain and laughing.

Isaiah writes of rain as the power and love of God.  There is a purpose to God’s rain, God’s love.  Of course that little boy was too young to make such connections between Isaiah’s words and love and rain and God.  He is older now, and probably carries an umbrella.  I hope he is safe from rain - the kind that makes him wet - but not the rain of Isaiah.  I hope he loves that kind of rain and runs through it. 

For we hide from love, for love can hurt us.  If it rains hard, when love comes to us hard and real, we even close our eyes because it hurts.  If we are frightened, we may even cry tears from the rain that flows through us.

Love asks a lot of us.  We have all sorts of umbrellas to protect us from the exacting demands of love.  Yet, love is the one thing in life that we can trust, for love is from God and there is a purpose to it. We do not always see that, and so we shield ourselves.  But God still sends the rain, still sends his love.  If we knew what it was that God sends us, we would run through it with each other and laugh and drink all the way.  We would love getting drenched. Saints and little boys are wise enough to run through it with joy.  I want to learn from them.  I like to think that there will come a time when we will all laugh and run in the rain, the rain of God’s love, and throw away forever everything we may have used to shield ourselves from God. 

I do not know if Paradise has weather.  I suspect there is a Wind.  And I would guess there are no umbrellas but I would bet there is a special kind of rain, rain that tastes good and brings joy - the kind you want to run through.  When I get to heaven, I will see all those I have loved and they will be soaking wet and laughing and running, running toward me, and will hold me in their arms and I will feel the cleansing of God’s love and the of their tears.  And they will love me into a life that is new but somehow familiar - familiar because of the rain that came to me from the time I first opened my mouth and cried for the milk of my mother’s rain and my family’s love.  And I will remember with joy those times I was not afraid in life of the rain that pelted me every day and when I had, at times,  the courage to taste it a bit, and then run - for it was God on the far side of that crazy storm, drenching me with the rain of his love as I ran toward him.

—Brother James Behrens

James Behrens is a Catholic Priest and writer living in Covington, Louisiana.  He is the author of Memories of Grace:  Portraits from the Monastery, (ACTA Publications.)