I can hear the steady rhythm of rain on the roof like tiny pellets; I can see the trickling drops begin to run together and slither down my window pane. They are endless. Coming and going as they may without a care or concern about their final destination, and yet accomplishing exactly what they are intended to do, the entire time.
As the forest fires burned, indiscriminately destroying home and life alike, anything in its wake, the hearts of Albertan’s came together in one common prayer; that the heaven’s would open up and pour down rain. As rainless days stretched on endlessly, bringing reports of ever expanding devastation, it was easy to rationalize away all inconvenience, for a drop of the sacred liquid – May long weekend camping and Beyonce be damned. As a community we would have gladly sacrificed them in exchange for precipitation, if only we could; anything to kill the raging fires and calm the soul. Bound together by our love and empathy for those displaced – we were #AlbertaStrong.
As quickly as the smoke hazed settled upon us, the rain clouds rolled in. Big, healthy drops began to fall from the sky and as the minutes turned into hours, a collective sigh of relief washed over our province. The rains brought new hopes and dreams for some but amidst the jubilation there was also sadness for many. There were real plans and hopes and dreams for this long weekend and the appearance of the rain destroyed them. Oh the irony.
Rain comes to wipe away the earth’s thirst and to create new life and regenerate that which needs regeneration. In doing so, inevitably, the weather gets cold, the sun disappears from sight and you become shut in, until it has done its job and the skies clear.
Like rain from the heavens is the rain pouring in my soul. Washing away hopes and dreams and unfulfilled expectations. With it comes a grieving of unseen, but deeply felt loss.
The rain has forced me indoors, the wind is blowing around me as uncertainty swirls about. I am left to try and sort my way though what is real and what is clouded by my perception. I can’t see the sun or feels its warmth upon my face, but I know that is it there, still shining as bright as ever; the steady and sure life force. I do not allow the rain to steal from me. The rain comes with a purpose. To cleanse and restore and leave me better than I was before. Happiness is an inside job – my happiness is my job and it is not blown to and fro depending on circumstance. I am rooted and grounded here. Firmly established because I made that choice a long time ago. It is where I live. It is my home. And there is joy despite the pain because the rains have come before. Dreams have washed away, expectations fallen to the way side, and new ones have emerged. Shinning brilliantly into my life and lighting a new way forward.
The rain will come. Sometimes it arrives when the landscape of your life is parched and dry and needs the healing nourishment, or when wildfires rage out of control. Sometimes it arrives when you feel you are already drowning. But let it come and wash over you; healing you, releasing you, sustaining you. And when the sun breaks through the clouds, you will feel the full affects of its warmth and it will help you, grow you, perfect you.
So for today, I am giving myself permission to release that which is not serving me well. To allow the rain to wash away the grief, the anger, the resentment that has settled in my heart like a companion; the disappointments and hopes I have carried in my heart for some of the relationships I have, and to grant them permission to be free of my expectations and to simply be who they are. I am free to make choices based on the reality I am presented with. That is the power I have; I cannot change anyone but I can love. And sometimes that means loving myself and making changes as necessary. I can already feel the clouds parting, and the comforting, gentle warmth of the sun’s rays are breaking though.
So bring on the rain.