Rain Means New Growth

It is raining today as a write.
It is a beautiful, drippy rain that gently announces springtime has arrived in East Texas. The sky is my favorite light-soaked gray that spotlights all the vibrant greens and pinks, as if nature is declaring in triumph that new growth is pushing up yet again.
I’m glad it is raining today, even though I was thankful for the window of sunshine that appeared in perfect timing for my firstborn’s outdoor wedding.
The rain fits my mood.
“It’s a lot like childbirth all over again,” whispered a dear friend as I stared off vacantly in a momentary lull at the reception. There was laughter all around me, but I wasn’t paying attention until she leaned in to whisper her encouragement.
I snapped back to reality.
“I didn’t expect it to hurt this much,” I whispered, looking deeply into my friend’s eyes, soaking up her compassion as she nodded with understanding.
Each time I gave birth to my children I purposely stayed at the hospital an extra day to heal. I knew once they loaded me into that wheelchair and pushed me out the front door, that I would be the caretaker of that delightful little bundle. I needed to be ready.
I figure waving goodbye to your firstborn as she happily skips away holding the hand of her beloved qualifies as one of those rewards in life that requires astonishing courage.
So, I’m taking the day off today.
Tomorrow, I will wake up, put on my game face, focus my attention on eternity, and get back in the game of life. I will focus a thankful heart on the small blessings that happen each moment for the person who is paying attention.
Tomorrow, I will drop my son off at school and holler out the window as I drive away, “You are the best boy in the whole world!”
I will interview my friend who made planning a wedding and a reception a piece of cake; a delicious, three-tiered white cake with a hand-painted topper of the bride and groom, to be exact.
I will call another friend who is planning her daughter’s wedding and I will ask if her bride has chosen her colors yet. I will give my friend the heads-up on what the process will cost her emotionally.
I will pack my suitcase for a weekend away with the groom I chose almost twenty-five years ago.
Today, however, I am going to wrap a blanket around myself. I am going to reflect on the birthing process. I am going to consider the difference between physical birth and emotionally letting go.
And I am going to watch it rain.