Wednesday, February 20, 2013

One Hundred Per Cent Chance

They said there was a 70% chance of rain today.  Here. In the desert. Then another weatherman  promised a definitive 98% chance. So I peeked out the window this morning, hoping I could opt out of that dark-thirty walk with a neighbor and just cuddle down deeper beneath flannel sheets and the comforter for a while.
But there was no rain. Therefore no excuses. Therefore no sluggardly sleeping.
I forgot there was a two per cent chance of no rain.
I almost got gloomy there for a while. So I turned on the tv where they promised the next green blob on the radar was gonna blow our way soon, complete with an ark and floating giraffes. I had my reservations, though. After all, 98% isn’t a guarantee.
I tried to be optimistic. The sky was definitely cloudy. It looked like it was raining out there somewhere. I could get in my truck and drive to somewhere. I could drink a Starbucks while I drove to somewhere. I could go find the rain if I just took matters into my own hands and drove to Somewhere!
But every time I do that, it stops raining on Somewhere, moves over, and rains at my house while I’m driving around looking for somebody else's rain. Then I miss it. I hate missing a rainstorm at my house. 
So this morning I waited at home. I brewed some Starbucks in my own personal coffee cup. I positioned myself in front of the windows so I could use my storm spotter skills and identify the first rain drop as soon as it landed. It took a while. The car keys called my name, but I held my ground. I refused to go searching for someone else’s rainstorm Somewhere and risk missing my own.
Ten minutes ago it started raining here while I sat nestled under my favorite quilt. Now I'm enjoying the fruit of not laboring, watching the waterworks outside, drinking a hot cup of Starbucks, and eavesdropping on the percussion of syncopated raindrops. Sometimes you have to stop trying to manipulate things . . . and just wait.
Somewhere is just somebody else’s turn at Right Here. And right now, it’s raining Right Here.
On the wall between the two windows where I can see it pouring rain outside is a plaque I just hung.  It gently chided me, The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.  (Exodus 14:14)
Now that’s what I call a guarantee.

I think I just heard a giggling giraffe float by.


  1. Love this. Seriously. I did not expect to read this and get all teary-eyed. I needed to hear this today.

    1. I needed to hear it, too. :) Rest and peace. That's what He promises. He's amazing.