Thursday, June 6, 2013

You Dance with Me in the Rainstorm

Right, left, breathe in, breathe out. These words I repeat to myself as I walk through this cold, dark, empty field. The sky sends strokes of anger toward the ground I stand on, threatening to destroy me. Explosions sound all around me. Cold, hard droplets of rain pelt my face. It stings.

I wish I had never left home, I think to myself. Why did I leave those walls of safety surrounding me? Why did I leave my box? And then I remember: to grow. A journey requires that I leave. I think of the flowers of this field. It was only once they burst forth from the safety and comfort of their underground dwelling place that their beauty was displayed for all to see. It was only once they were exposed to the elements of rains, winds, and sunshine that they could grow. I realize that it is the same for me: I cannot grow without leaving my safe and comfortable box. And I cannot expose myself to the sunshine without also being vulnerable to the winds and the rains.

So I walk. I walk in this rainstorm. Right, left, breathe in, breathe out. I shiver from the winds and the rains that swirl around me. They close me in, and I feel breathless. I fall to my knees and shrink into a twisted mess of flesh and bones lying upon a cold, dark floor. I have hit rock bottom. I lie here, alone. I lie here, unable to go on.

And then I get angry. I am mad. I lift my face to the sky and scream out “God, where are you?! Stop the rains, and stop the winds.”

But it doesn’t stop. The winds keep blowing, and the rain keeps pounding. But above all the elements’ noise, I hear a whisper that sounds like peaceful, rushing waters:
                                                    “Be still and know that I am God.”

And then, a firm and gentle Hand surrounds mine. I turn and look into the eyes of the One who has the authority to dismiss the winds and the rains, but chooses to sit with me through it instead. I look in His eyes, and He whispers “I’m not going anywhere.”

He takes my hand, and slips His other around my waist as He pulls me into a close embrace. “Dance with me,” He says. He turns this cold and dreary night into one of intimacy. He dances with me in the rainstorm. The wind and the rains don’t disappear, but no longer do I notice them, for my attention is now fixed upon Something so much greater.

The winds are cold, so He pulls me closer. I now notice His warmth more than this cold. My heart burns and aches and breaks, so He whispers “I love you” and my heart is made whole. The elements do not disappear, but my awareness and fixation upon them do. I am now lost in the Eyes of the One who knows me, the Hands of the One who formed me, and the Heart of the One who loves me. I am lost in the Arms of the One who holds me through it all.

And then I whisper, “Thank you.”

“For what, dear one?”

My answer surprises me: “Thank you for this rain storm, for without it, I would not have this dance, I wouldn’t know Your warmth, and my heart wouldn’t be whole.”

And with this, He pulls me tighter and we dance and we dance and we dance.
And with every step, He whispers “I love you.”

His love pounds harder than this pounding rain.
His warmth is greater than this freezing cold.
His strength is surer than this wind.

So we dance and we love and I thank Him over and over again for this song.
I thank Him for the rain.


 

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