It is an unusual start to the day. As I look out in the emerging light the only sight is an approaching sheet of gray rain. While there is bright light for city block, beyond that is nothing but gray! I realize I can smell the wetness. The breeze rushing through the apartment reminds me that the front is moving faster than I realize. Even as I write, drops of rain are already beginning to spot the windows.
As the rain beats on the window, I realize that I cannot see anything. The usual tranquility of the morning with the sight of lush green trees and people exercising and stretching their legs has been replaced by a overwhelming sense of darkness. I cannot imagine being out in the weather, especially riding. Even with protective glasses, the feedback from my senses would have echoed David’s words; “The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope.” (Psalm 6.7)
It is hard to remember that not every day starts this way. In reflection I realize that in my hours of despair it feels like I am in a dark rainstorm. In that moment, hope is hiding and possibilities have taken a holiday. Nothing seems possible.
In my heart I hold onto the fact that the storm will pass, often before I expect it to. As dark as it is, there are things I can do. There are always is. I can write an email or call to a friend. I can share a smile with another who is carrying life’s weight. I can open a door or offer a helping hand. I know these are small things. I also know that when I need them, in that moment, they are priceless gifts.
Life’s cycles of birth and death, spring and winter remind me that the opportunities are here, even if it means that we get wet sometimes. Life is never about staying safe (or dry). Our stories are told in our actions. Circumstances are your stage and mind; places where we get to act.
