Heartbreak, Disease, and the Whisper of the Rain

This morning I stood on my porch laughing like a mad woman.

Why?

Because it was raining. 

I know, I know, for all of you people who live in places with monsoon season or places where the rain never quits, I sound crazy. But in Texas, at least so far, it hasn't rained much. And I love rain. Like I really, really love rain.

It struck me as so amazing that it decided to rain this morning because just last night I had been talking to a friend who is on vacation in Colorado, lamenting that they were sitting in a mountain house listening to the rain, while I was sitting in an apartment listening to my skin crackle and die in the overwhelming heat.

I began to question, as we often do when we are left alone for too long, why I had made the decision to move here. "Why didn't I move to Colorado?" I thought,  "Why did I come to Texas where I have no friends except the mosquitos that think I'm the greatest snack ever invented?"

Just because it hadn't freaking rained, I began to have that moment of panic we all have when we move to a new place alone, where I suddenly felt utterly frustrated that life is not completely perfect in every way.

After all, who wants to live in a dry and barren land, where I can't even figure out HOW TO OPEN THE GATES TO THE POOL?? Ahem, I mean, why live in Texas where there is no rain?

So I feel asleep, and lo and behold when I woke up this morning. . .  it was raining. Pouring. The heavens had opened and huge drops of moisture and love soaked into my skin.

I stood on my porch with my arms stretched out and I laughed as if I had never seen the beauty of a grey and cloudy sky before. I rejoiced as if manna from heaven was falling from the sky to quench my hunger and provide for my needs.

Of course. Of course this morning it would rain.

Now I know that God didn't make it rain for me. The rain was going to come, no matter how I felt about it. But in that moment as the rain bounced across my skin like tiny happy pixies, it seemed to be a sign that whispered, "don't worry my dear. All will be well." 

I know, I know, it sounds like I was left alone in my apartment for too long this weekend, and maybe I was, but I am telling you that as the rain POURED from the sky I began to feel more confident that God will water my soul is this season of unknowns. I felt like the rain was a little reminder that God hears me, and knows me, and will provide for me. To me, the rain meant something.

In this new season of overcoming I have found that having a health issue is, to me, much easier (though still difficult) to deal with than having an issue of the heart. When Cameron left, there was no cure. There was no timeline for healing, no prescription I could take to fix the brokenness I felt inside. Over the last year I became whole again and was made well, but even still I couldn't tell you exactly how that happened. I couldn't prescribe the same remedies to someone else. It was simply a walk through darkness, hoping that light would once again appear. And light did once again appear.

But now that something is wrong with my body, there is a prescription. There is a cut and dry way to get better and there are certain dates on which I can expect to do so. I've been to countless doctor's appointments in the past month and the plan has been made. On July 6th, I will have surgery and though it sucks and its unexpected (and it sucks), I know that in a few months I will be well again.

There is already an end in sight. 
There is already hope.

The path isn't easy per se, but it is straightforward. A part of my body is unwell and I have a team of the best doctors working with me to get rid of the disease and protect the rest of me. And as I prepare for my life to once again be slightly different than I had imagined, I simply soak in the rain as it whispers to my soul,

Don't worry my dear, all will soon be well.