The boys and I are on the front porch again. The Mississippi valley sky turns dark. It's a small darkness at first, but it isn't long before the blues and purples and greys ink everything that is above us.
A squall is coming.
We see it in the clouds.
"Look, Mom," Gabe says. "It's beautiful."
The air is cooler on our skin. The rockers are still. We're watching. And waiting.
Then the rain comes down.
It's an easy shower at first, that soft, gentle-soak kind of rain. But it turns fast. The sky opens and the rain is a curtain. We're dry under the roof of the porch, but the rain surrounds us. It falls around us, rushing down, but we're safe and boxed in.
And I notice my geranium. My favorite kind. Deep red and dark. It's hanging in a basket from the porch roof. It's thirsty. The leaves are a little curled. I've neglected my watering duties and the evidence is visible.
So I sit and I watch. I watch the rain fall so hard it's like a clear wall. But the geranium is too far in. It's thirsty and dry and it's ever-so close.
But it cannot reach the water.
It's just inches from what it needs. The refreshment flows down. But it can't get there. It can't receive the gift of this rain.
Makes me wonder about my spiritual life. Sometimes I feel so close to an abundance. Sometimes I feel a sliver or a stitch away from exactly what I need. But sometimes I don't quite get there.
Maybe it's busyness.
Maybe it's distractedness.
Maybe it's just that my life is crazy full of so many wonderful things.
But the Lord offers an abundance of life-giving water when I'm thirsty and dry. I just don't take the time to plant my feet firm and stand in the rain. And I have the choice. I can move toward the richness of His grace.
Gabe's hand slips into mine. Thunder claps above us now and the sky streaks bright with light. Time for us to go in. Time for us to take refuge inside.
I look once more at my thirsty, longing plant. It will have to wait. The rain will stop or maybe just slow and I'll untether it from the porch. Maybe I'll sit it in the yard. Or mercy will come from the watering can.
But my soul has stirred.
I don't want to exist just close to the abundance. I want to be showered on. I want my thirsty heart to open wide and drink it all that the Lord, in His great compassion and kindness, will offer me.
The conviction alone refreshes me.
And the best part?
I think the Lord wants me to stand in the shower of His abundance, too.
Lord, please remove anything in my life that keeps me from living in an abundance of your grace. If it's a sin issue, let me see and help me come free. If it's busyness or the distractions, help me order my priorities and time.
Let me stand, as fully as I can, in the shower of Your goodness. Amen.