Yesterday, running late as usual, I flew out of the front door only to about-face quickly, returning to grab an umbrella. The rain was just starting to drizzle, but I knew I did not want to be without that umbrella all day, even if it might make me late. By the time I parked, the rain was pouring. I clambered out of my car getting wet despite the open umbrella in my hand. I climbed up the newly installed waterfall that had once been a set of stairs outside Flowers Hall. By the time I reached my classroom, I could already tell my tennis-shoes were a little damp. My cold legs and arms were already chastising me for not putting on more than shorts and a T-shirt. I shrugged the small discomfort away, however, because I had already decided it was going to be a great Monday. The rain couldn’t last that long, right?
An hour later, I stepped outside expecting nothing more than a light drizzle of rain. What I got, however, was a monsoon.
I stuck my little umbrella back in the air and began my trek to the Communications building. I arrived a little cold, a little wet, but still thinking positive thoughts. How long could this torrential downpour last anyway?
A long time, apparently.
By the time I arrived at my last class a few hours later, I was very cold and wet. My shoes and socks were soaked all the way through. Drops of water stuck to my arms and legs. My poor little umbrella had started to let water through, thus making my hair damp. By the time I began walking to my car, the campus resembled the Ocoee. There were streams of rain water flowing from one end of campus to the next. At that point, I had just accepted the fact that my shoes were now boats and the reality was, I could not avoid the water.
I watched as the mini rivers ran past. The current carried leaves and pieces of dirt as passengers. In some places, the water had turned a tomato soup red from all the dirt that was being washed away. The earth was being cleaned. The rainwater was washing the summer dirt away, leaving behind a clean space for the autumn leaves to fall.
I have heard it said that rain is good for the soul. I don’t know if that’s a science or a theory, but in that moment, watching the dirt float past my feet, I believed it. I began to see how God cleanses us with His Word, the Living Water by pouring it over our imperfect lives. Every day, He is chiseling away the dirt caked around us, rinsing us with water and making us clean and whole again.
When it comes to God’s Word, don’t step around the puddles. Don’t avoid the rivers of cleansing water. Find the deepest spot and jump in. Splash. Dance. Be soaked all the way through. Because it is not enough to have just one drop of His love. Once you have tasted a single drop, you will open wide your mouth to drink in all He is.
Monday did all he could to wash away my positive attitude, but it could not be easily purged from me. The thing is if nothing else had gone right yesterday there were a few things that were enough to keep me smiling.
“I am alive.
I can feel the rain on my skin.
I can breathe in the scent of rainwater turning over the earth.
I am clean.
I am whole.
Because the Living Water has been poured out over me.”