But When It Rains
It has been months since my ears last felt the sound. So when I heard it this morning, the stampede of a thousand horses leading the charge on my rooftop, the rain drops beckoned come—and fast!
Ten glorious minutes of grasped hands, jumping together, weaving in and out, throwing arms and squeals heavenward. The stone-sidewalk river floating rain bubbles and the laughter of twirling girls bobbing the wet air.
I wish I could bottle the delight, uncork it on the days that try us all, and let it wash over us again, a reminder.
And at last, after pajamas and diaper are soaked and the chill bumps and sun have arrived, we retreat. Outside umbrellas rest in their sunlit puddle beds; inside there is bouncing excitement and towels and talk of hot cocoa. (Marshmallows, please??? Of course, always, always, marshmallows.)
We now have this morning—the one of a long-awaited downpour, the wet pj’s, the sweetness and abandon, and the cocoa—to add to our history of rain playing.
“Sing to the LORD with grateful praise… He covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain…” (Psalm 147:7-8)