Rain

It's one of those dreary, grey rainy weeks that usually drape the soul in gloom, but as this is the first moisture we've had in months, and with the growing season just around the corner, I don't think there is anyone, at least locally, who can do anything but smile at the weather.  It is strange to see the plants setting leaves and buds, the birds starting to nest, but still there was no sign of rain, but their faith was unshakable, they did what they were designed to do regardless that the farmers were grumbling that maybe they shouldn't plant this year for it would undoubtedly be a drought.  There is certainly something in the command to have 'faith as a grain of mustard seed,' I always assumed it meant to have even the tiniest modicum of faith, as in the size of the mustard seed, but perhaps it means to have an unshakable faith like all the birds and seeds and plants that prepare for spring, even when the season looks treacherous or late.  If they waited until the conditions were right to get busy, it would be too late, if they are to succeed and flourish, they must have faith and step out even when the conditions look questionable.  It is rather sad that the mustard seed sometimes has more sense than we logical and reasoning people do!  But then, for a mustard seed to enact its 'faith' it must stop being a mustard seed, it must cease to be, literally burst asunder, that the plant within might grow and thrive and live.  Perhaps it is that we are scared of dying rather than a lack of faith, at least dying to ourselves or letting go of what we think we should be, but like the caterpillar and the unhatched egg and the seed, there is far more potential within us than we can even begin to imagine, if only we have the faith to take that first scary step into the unknown lest we remain forever a seed.

It is cold and wet and gloomy outside, as if nature mourns the loss of something, but that is simply my personification of it, for in very truth, she is a bride preparing for her wedding day, though right now her mood seems that of a recent widow.  There too is a lesson, out of gloom and sorrow and cloudy, wet days, joy will come again, the sun will shine, the plants will bloom and the birds sing, and they will do it all the brighter for days like this, so too with the soul.  Right now life is sometimes gloomy and sad, grief is not far off, but it is getting easier, occasionally the sun breaks through the clouds or I glimpse a bud about to break forth into leaf or flower, and I know that spring will come again, even if it is not as fast as I would have it.  The rains come in their season, as does sorrow in our lives, but so too does sunshine, new life, and joy.  So I will smile at the rain and know it is not forever.