maybe it's okay.

I LOVE this weather.
If you remember, a few weeks back I talked about the significance of rain in my life. So, yes it's been chilly, yes it's not fun to drive in, but man, I love this weather.

Something I did this weekend, besides enjoy the rain with a few good books and cups of lavender cream earl grey, was clean. My room had become a disaster in the past couple of weeks with piles of dirty clothes, (neater) piles of clothes to be put away, shoes that had been quickly and careless abandoned after a long day at work, books from the library, cards from friends, buttons and thread. The little things of daily life that don't seem to warrant much time or thought until they all pile up into one giant mess.

So, after about a week and a half of creatively finding a path from my door to my bed, I set out to actually get things in some sort of order.

By set out, I mean I tried. By tried I mean I started. 

I mentioned last week that I get distracted easily and I know that played a part, for sure. But when I felt the need to re-read the card that my friend had sent me two weeks ago or look through the photos scattered on my endtable, something else came to mind that I remembered from my time meeting with an MFT at Link Care.
When I shared that it sometimes can take me a few hours to tidy up a room that my mom always insisted should only take an hour at most because I stopped to look through things, or was reminded of a late night run in the rain as I folded a mud-stained t-shirt, he said three words that challenged me to re-think how I view myself.

"Maybe that's okay."

So deep and profound, I know. But really, as much as I love my momma and know that she simply wants to see that my room isn't a pigsty, maybe it's okay that it takes me longer to get my room in some sort of order. Maybe it's okay that I clean my room in a different way other people do.

Maybe it's okay that I prefer rain over a sunny day with a high of 75.
Maybe it's okay that I am not called to work with high schoolers.

Maybe it's okay that I don't like the phrase "do missions".

Maybe it's okay that I'm not sure how I'm going to get back home to Portugal. (yet)

This is a bit of a scattered post. I guess the three things I wanted to communicate:

1. The rain always inspires me. To think. To rest. To be drenched in His love.

2. The best way, I've found, to tackle a big mess (literally and figuratively) is one piece at a time. (p.s. this might will take a while...which leads me to the last point...)

3. Maybe it's okay.

Maybe I'm just totally off my rocker. I guess the only way we'll find out is by asking...

Let's come back next week and compare notes? :)

rainy.

Rain, rain come this way,
Come to stay for several days.
That's the song I'll teach my children someday. 

There's just something about rain that I just can't seem to get enough of. A friend of mine said it quite perfectly this week. Rain is:
"Such a relief. Rest. Joy."

I know I didn't always used to like rainy days. When I was really young, I was terrified of lighting (I figured our log home would burn pretty well...) and in high school I remember complaining about how I hated the way my jeans turned into giant sponges that had half of my leg drenched by lunchtime. But as time went by and life was experienced, as with many other things, my views were broadened and I began to see it differently.

My sophomore year of college was by far the most difficult year of my life. (Seems a bit naïve to say that since I've been alive for twenty-two years. Anyway...) That year was difficult emotionally, mentally, physically and especially spiritually. You know when people say they're going through a dry spell in their relationship with God? I felt like I was in a desert.  There were few things that brought me genuine joy during that year, but one of them was rain. Rain brought cleansing. Nourishment. Healing. In the rain I felt remembered. I felt cared for. I felt loved. 

In movies, rain seems most often connected to a sad scene. In the movie of my life, rain became a source of pure joy. I guess that's why I get so bummed out when people rag on the rain. Maybe sometimes rain does make you sad, but I've found it's okay to be sad sometimes. Following Jesus doesn't mean being happy all the time. Life is tough. There are moments of great pain and moments of great joy. And also just moments that don't seem to fit in either of those extremes. 

You may not think about rain the way I do, but I think there's probably something God's used in each of our lives that we may not have expected, or even liked, to reveal Himself in a new way and bring us closer to Him. Let's encourage each other, sometimes it's really difficult to see those things when we're still in the midst of them.

p.s. if you've never tried it, I highly encourage you to go dance in the rain this week! (barefoot is best)