I shuffle quietly in my kitchen, preparing the morning coffee, running thru my to-do list, when the sounds of raindrops against the window catches my attention.
It is still dark outside, but I can faintly see the mud puddles already forming in the drive. And I smile. Normally, rain upsets me – I associate it with dreary, sunless weather, bad hair (curls + rain = FRIZZ), and mud tracked throughout the house (19 month olds love to jump in puddles….).
But today, I smile at the rain and offer a prayer of thanks. It has been dry here for months. Historically, we’ve been in a drought for years, and the rain has long been prayed for, longed for, and wanted.
I hear a sound from my daughter’s room, so I pull away from my musings and walk down the hall to check on her. She is sleeping peacefully, a faint smile tugging her tiny lips upwards at the corners. Her content expression reveals no indication that she is anything other than a happy, healthy 19 month old.
However, in the last 2 weeks she’s had several “episodes” – times where she seems to tense her whole body up, lose the ability to stand, and for awhile afterwards operates in a fog. A trip to the emergency room and CT scan revealed no explanation for the behavior. So now we began the testing, the consultations with physicians and specialists.
The fear, the uncertain, the vast unknown swells inside me…..leaving me cold, shaking, and feeling as though I am standing in the midst of a monsoon. And yet, I have never felt the presence of the Father more. A calm, reassurance that my child is ultimately His child and that she is resting in His hands. He speaks soothing words to my heart, telling me that whatever the doctors may find, He already knows and is in control of.
So as the rain comes down, I smile and I offer praise to Him.