It’s a cold, rainy, November day. I sip from a mug of tea while I try to read, but mostly I just stare out the window, deep in thought. I know that lots of people find this kind of weather depressing, but it’s never been that way for me. I love the rain, and I find so much solace and companionship in nature. In birds chirping. In a hummingbird’s flight. In trees. In ocean waves. In flowers. And especially, for reasons I’ve never known, in the steady falling of rain.
When I was a little girl I loved rainy weather. I was a bookworm before I even should’ve learned to read, so for me the rain meant curling up somewhere with a good picture book, preferably with a doll or stuffed animal on my lap. As I got older, rainy days meant other things like tea, umbrellas, and crazy drivers on the freeway. It also meant getting wet against your will and having bad hair days. But even with its inconveniences, the rain never did seem to lose its magic.
I’m twenty-four now, and although I’m sick, often bedridden, and stuck in a body plagued with terrible pain, I still find comfort and wonder in a rainy day. I look out my window and see life. The earth is being watered, life is being sustained, and it is beautiful. The love of our Creator is seen so strongly in nature, and I start to think about who he is and all that he’s promised. I remember that he is with me, I remember that I am loved, and I am thankful. So thankful.
Then the rain stops. I look out the window and see the soft golden glow of a setting sun leaking through breaks in the dark clouds. I hear a bird chirp and I can’t help but peel myself from the warm, dry confines of the house to go outside. I tiptoe barefoot across wet cement, looking up into the sky. Rain droplets still caught on trees fall on my face, and soon I’m too cold to remain outdoors. But I drink in the sights and smells of this seemingly-insignificant moment of wonder, and I hold them close as I retreat indoors.
And I remember something that I haven’t really, truly remembered in a while. I remember that life is beautiful. And not just the life “out there” that I am too sick to enjoy, but life in the very capacity that I have been given. Even life in a pain-wracked, sick body that often seems impossible to endure. It’s still a gift. But it’s also a really hard fight, and God used this rainy day to help me see that no matter how hard this fight gets, it doesn’t change the Maker of all life. It doesn’t change the beauty he put in this world for us to enjoy and cultivate. It doesn’t change the beauty of his love for his created ones, or the beauty of his promises and faithfulness. It also doesn’t change the beauty of his everyday mercies and sufficient grace…But the beauty of all of these unchanging things are changing me.
Did you know that Christianity has a history of philosophy regarding beauty? Beauty, be it nature, art, music or architecture, has a way of leading us to God. Just has some people find God through suffering, reason, science or logic, others can and do find God through beauty. In fact that is why medieval Christians built those wondrous cathedrals. They believed that the beauty and height of the cathedrals (like all true beauty) has a way of drawing us out of ourselves and up toward God. Unfortunately, American Christians nowadays seem to have rejected the creation of beauty (in art and music especially) because it’s a waste of time and it will eventually all burn, so to speak. Posts like this would do well to remind us of the beauty all around us and how true beauty can and does direct us toward God.
That’s awesome! I didn’t know that, but it makes so much sense. Thanks for sharing, that comment made my day 🙂