I am laying here on our trampoline. I am listening to the thunder and watching the rain fall. I like just laying here, letting the rain drench everything. It washes off the dirt and brings life to our flowers.
Sometimes I wish I was a flower. I wish the rain could soak through my skin and into my soul and wash everything away. Wash all the memories and mistakes and put out this flame of shame that still sometimes burns inside me. I wish life and growth were that easy for this mess of a girl.
But I am so much more complicated than a flower.
And thankfully God’s grace falls so much heavier than these Summer rains do. And most of the time I don’t even see it but God seems to have His way of wringing out my life to show me how much grace I really have soaked up. And its no fun getting twisted and tightened but sometimes that’s the only way you even realize what you’ve got.
My favorite time is after the rain has stopped. I like walking around and looking at reflections of the street lamps and car lights bursting out of the muck like fireworks.
Beauty from ashes.
I like looking into the puddles that reflect buildings and people and perfect snatches of the sky.
And maybe that’s when we reflect His love the most, when we let our pot holes fill with grace.
And in the morning when I wake up early to a world that has soaked in all the rain, I smell it. That smell of the morning that comes with the rising of the sun. That smell that feels like new mercies and second chances. That smell that is fresh and makes you feel so alive. That smell is always there in the morning after a rain, after the grace.
And I think that must be what HOPE smells like.
