happy when it rains

It has been raining for two days straight...and I couldn't be happier about it. I have always, always, always LOVED the rain. When everyone else was grumpin and complainin about their ruined plans and flattened hair, I was secretly smiling and looking forward to that time I could steal away and walk in it. Several years ago I even wrote a poem about it. Ok, here it is, don't laugh. I know it's a bit corny, but that's ok:

Sometimes I wonder
why people get so sad,
how they can wear such frowns.
When there are so many
good things to be had
so much beauty around.

Some people see the rain
and think it's a curse;
they'd rather see sunshine instead.
They build up a dislike
for rain that they nurse
til any hope of liking it is dead.

Since God rules the sky
and sends us the rain,
why do we sulk in His face?
If we could just see
the beauty of rain,
through it we could sense God's grace.

How beautiful the rain
that falls on my cheek;
soft as the touch of God's hand
because it's not the gray
or dreary I seek,
but a oneness with God in this land.

If people could learn
to see not with eyes
but with heart, soul, and mind,
beauty will be found
in the midst of rainy skies
and a deeper love for God they will find.

So I know it's kind of corny, but it's what I was feeling at the time. Growing up on a farm in the middle of nowhere, PA, there was plenty of yard space to run. I remember one time inparticular when it started pouring down rain. My mom was in the back of the house, so I went out the front. I mean, it was coming down in torrents, and I just soaked it all in. I ran and ran all over the yards and around the house. I just kept running and running, getting soaked to the bone. When I had had my fill of wetness I decided to enter the house at the back, knowing if my mom decided to scold, the deed was already done and well worth her threats of "catching my death" and the familiar shake of the head and the small smile that said, "I need to scold you, but it's really ok."

Another cool thing about growing up on the farm...I could follow my dad everywhere, and there were many times I did just that. I'd follow him as he fed the calves, follow him as he shoveled out stalls, follow him as he ran the conveyors that carried the feed to the cows, and best of all, followed him down into the scary, underground, cement tunnel that connected the barn to the silo. It was always flooded down there with water, and I'm sure some other fluids I'm fine with being ignorant about. Almost every time I followed him down there I could count on my quiet, yet dry-witted father to say, "Water water everywhere, someone lost their underwear!" I would giggle and giggle and think he was the funniest daddy ever, and he would just smile.

I love the rain!