Rain, Rain, Go Away...

Growing up on the Oregon coast and then in the Seattle area, I have grown used to the rain. It doesn't bother me, and in fact, I typically enjoy the rain. I find the gray skies soothing to my soul, something about the softness of the air and the heavy clouds seem to protect and provide a haven. Rainy days are good days to stay home, to bake and do laundry and set my house in order. A day to cuddle on the couch with tea and toast and watch old TV shows from the 70's or a great black and white romance. Rainy days are days of peace for me, I call the rain "my friend". Usually.

I awoke in the night to the patter of rain. It was a noise that took a minute to identify. It was a funny "tink-tick-tink" sound and my husband and I lay listening for a moment until he whispered, "rain?" and I agreed. The sound grew louder and the tink-tink of drops came closer and closer until it was a fantastic downpour. It was a roar, a crackling angry sound and it set my soul on edge. This rain? It is not my friend.

I tossed and turned throughout the rest of the night. The rain ripped through the leaves, lashed the roof, pounded the grass and the road. It was so... furious. Baby was up several times, crying out in the night and needing comfort. I needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held. My stomach held an uprising and and I was up for awhile dealing with that and when my husbands alarm rang at a little after 5am, it was a relief. I was done with the night, done with the dark and the creepy sound of rain in the silence. I was glad for an excuse to get up. I got up and found courage in a cup of strong coffee. I turned on a few lights, closed a few windows, tidied up the living room that was left a mess from the evening before. Feeling slightly more settled, I returned to the safety of my bedroom, my laptop, and the early morning news.

I shouldn't blame the rain. It's just my own internal struggles that I'm currently going through. The things in my mind are creating a storm atmosphere in my spirit that is nothing like a peaceful rain. It is not really the rain that is angry, it is me. If I could rage and surge like the rain! If I could pour out my angst and fear and anger the way the rain has poured! Oh if I could explode in such a way as to clear my spirit like the rain clears the sky and leaves it new and fresh, washing dirt from the street and pollen from the leaves and setting diamonds in the webs of spiders!

The rain has settled now. It is a more peaceful drizzling, a friendly little patter that lends music to the air. The light filtering through the low clouds lends a magical cast to the colors of the wet grass and trees, the darker road and the homey glow of lights in other houses. The scent on the breeze is fresh and earthy. And still I am on edge. There are decisions to be made, arguments to be had, a battle to win... and someone's life may be changed. I may have to draw a line and dare someone to step over it. I may have to threaten and then I may have to follow through on that threat and I don't know if I am prepared to do that. As I write this, the rain is picking up. The friendly patter is like little stomping feet having a tantrum.

I need more coffee.

*while I am not ready to divulge this issue, I want to assure you my marraige is fine and stable!