Cheeto and I were in the Story Shack early this morning, and we had the heater going, so I couldn’t hear anything outside. About the time I was getting frustrated with what I was writing (which was going nowhere fast), I decided to go in the house and freshen my coffee. I opened the door to a soft rain falling from a dark early morning sky. It made me forget the bad writing on my computer and the cold coffee in my cup. I just stood in the doorway and listened to it fall.
What I love about rain—provided I don’t have to drive in it—is the way it slows everything down. You were planning to do yard work . . . but it’s raining. What’s on Netflix? You were booked into your kids’ Little League game . . . but it’s a rainout. Let’s order pizza.
Sometimes I think we need some sort of intervention, like rain, to make us just stop. When I’m spinning my wheels at work or at home (one day, I’ll clean the guest room—I promise), it’s usually because I’m trying to do way too much, and I need to just stop.
My mother says I’m terrible at doing nothing, but there’s great value in being still, in abandoning our determination to make something happen and instead just letting what was meant to be unfold. (Cheeto has no problem with that one, by the way.)
My prayer for you, this rainy Sunday morning: a calm spirit, a peaceful heart, and the serenity of falling rain.