a little rain

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow put it this way in his poem “The Rainy Day”:
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Jesus of Nazareth said it like this (Matthew 5:45) in his treatise on loving others:
He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

Fast forward to our own generation and hear the words penned by Mark Hall of Casting Crowns:
I was sure by now, God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away,
Stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
And it’s still raining

It would seem that rain must come. And while I wouldn’t want a physical world without it, I must admit that in life as in spirit, I long for the sun on my face. Far too many clouds lately for my taste. Whether we’re speaking of hurricanes or health issues or even trying to discern truth about a candidate for public office, it feels to me like it’s raining way too much right now.

Theologically, I understand that God wants us to look to him in both good times and bad, trusting his heart toward us regardless of circumstances in this physical world. And I do. But as a flesh and blood human being, don’t you ever just want to shout at him: “haven’t you tested me enough?”

This is the nature of lament, and as I heard in the sermon Sunday, there are more Psalms of lament than praise, illustrating God’s approval of voicing our deepest and most gut-wrenching questions. I pray that we, like the Psalmist, will remember the ways God has answered before, even as we bring our plea to the one who can make all things work together…somehow….someway….someday.