drops of joy

It started with a gray sky. Then a few drops of rain fell. Then more, and more, until we found ourselves in the midst of a complete downpour. At first, it seemed like any other rainy afternoon in Cambodia during the rainy season. One minute it was sunny with a few clouds, the next minute the rain poured down. But this particular day was different. The rain hit my face. It soaked my shoulders. My dry hair was drenched, and it came down, harder, and harder... and harder. It poured down the front of my shirt, and as we rode home on the back of the little moped, I started to laugh. The rain tickled my skin, my ears, my face. I was completely saturated, and it just kept coming. And I laughed harder. I couldn’t stop laughing, until the tears ran from my eyes, mixing with the raindrops which already covered my face. I remember not even being sure of what it was that caused me to laugh until I cried. It was like the absurdity of the whole thing overtook me until I couldn’t control my emotions. I was living in a hard place, and the frequent rain was just one more thing. Yet on that day the rain and gray skies weren’t discouraging- although the rest of my week might have been. I remember God showing up in those ten minutes, reminding me that in the midst of it all, I was living- and living fully engaged and alive. It was a tangible reminder about beauty and hope in the mundane, wet, dirty, and messy pieces of life.

I have been swimming in my thoughts lately. Feeling discouraged sometimes too. Wondering what God is doing in me, and how He will choose to use my messy and imperfect life. Today I sat for awhile at Mt. Tabor park, under the tall trees and gray of the Portland sky. Then rain started to fall. Only a few drops at first; but soon it was another downpour. My clothes were stuck to my skin, my hair was dripping, and in the warm air I was reminded of that day in Cambodia. I smiled as I was reminded again of the deep joy and hope which lie in the midst of the gray and wet.