“Chance of sunshine taday…pure brilliant if yer lookin’ fer a not-so-wet day out’tha hoose.”
Not even 10 minutes old, and my morning was already being entrusted to a total stranger. Through swollen pillow-eyes and the unavoidable morning breath that we all fall prey too, I sat allowing my ears to be tickled with the sounds of science’s best attempt to soothsay mother nature. I feel like being a weatherman in Scotland would at least allow for the possibility to gage nature’s next move with relatively reliable accuracy…I mean, c’mon, it’s Scotland, the forecast will always call for the good chance of rain, or of threatening clouds overhead. So yeah, for some reason my morning reporter tried to get all fancy and defy every other network’s prediction by claiming sun was a “good chance.”
Needless to say it freakin’ poured like cats and dogs…and walruses, and perhaps an elk…and other large awkward animals that if imagined falling from the sky would humorously denote massive Scottish raindrops! The rain literally makes love to the wind on its way down here in Scotland…it ends up blasting upwards from the ground as if all the water were slingshot toward our trampoline streets to bounce back at us like wild eyed kids.
But there I was, walking down the quiet streets of Irvine after a long 11 hour day in Glasgow…and then it came…gentle at first almost like messenger drops…and then some of the more skilled assassin droplets, sneaking into places like the raindrop sized opening between your neck and jacket…amazing little guys. And then, as if all the pipers in the country called it forth with one giant breath…it just came…endless, streaming, slightly to the side-like rain.
It was glorious and soaking!
I hid my guitar beneath a nearby awning big enough for me and my six stringed friend, but immediately, as if someone had yanked on my backpack and thoughts all at once, I stumbled back into the rain on purpose. And so, as if the sandal wearing, cargo short sporting, U.S. Air Force sweatshirt wearing American didn’t already stand out enough in a baltic “sunny” Scottish day, I made a complete fool out of myself as I stood in the rain. I stood there until the rain grew tired, protesting with little kid abandon and pride… the way we would almost rather pass out rather than give up our “tunnel breaths.”
At first the rain ran down over me much like the last time I had committed this act…but my senses had long since forgotten this dance, and I moved into …I spilled into its every way, tripping back and forth across my closed eyes, hands held out, head lofted to the grey sky above. The rain tasted delicious…Scottish rain should be the first thing you taste upon entering the country.
And so, as I sat there not having a care in the world, which I know had to be somewhat true because the shuffling of footsteps slowly passing me by made me realize in my rainy moment that nearly a dozen people had had to maneuver around me on the small European sidewalk. Haha, I think a bus might have stopped too…maybe that’s where all the people came from (grin). Too bad I don’t care about appearances, save for what my King sees His kid inspiringly led to do.
God had allowed Satan to fill that weather man in the morning and spread his lies to get me to this exact moment. Okay, so maybe not something that theologically intense, but I was here at providence’s bidding nonetheless. There was something He needed to tell me in only the way I can ever truly allow something between Him and I to go unhindered and without hesitation to my heart…in His wild creation sitting as nothing more or less than a little boy, watching and listening.
While I didn’t have a Damascus experience, with the booming voice from above, this was more of a ‘mountain top’ experience, whereby I had God communicate His simplicity and Love to me in the most majestic and tailor-made way imaginable. He is so relentlessly romantic sometimes…and easy on the eyes too.
…I didn’t die for you to try and Live for me…you either Love me enough to Live or you Love me so little that you still want to hang on to something…anything. The simplest of wisdoms to my heart repeatedly pour forth from His heart to mine…
“Just let go…I only said you could borrow your problems anyway…so, do you Love me, or not?”
Thankfully I did not deny him thrice…and no rooster crowed. What did happen was Christ, through thousands of little reminders splashing on my face, made me look at Him…I looked into His deep eyes longer than our fleeting attention span for a blog entry… especially one of my boring ones…longer than it takes to send a text… longer than it takes to check your myspace… and yes, even longer it takes most of us to pray…I just stopped my supposed “life” and abided, on the spot, in the rain, like a follower/fool.
I cried so quietly, and secretly with the rain…no one knew I was streaming along with the sky. I can’t remember the last time I cried without feeling shame as an instigator. I recommend it highly!
I love Jesus Christ more than I will ever endear any woman to my heart, (save my close second of a wife) more than I will ever commit to any dream, even those come true… and yes, He is even something I will Love more than myself, which is something, while I do ran the gamut of insecurities, I’ve managed to all but devote myself to.
So, next time it starts to grey up outside, and you feel like you and all musical instruments should be nowhere near the pending “sunshine” to come… consider that the clouds above might have been an intimate post-it stuck right before your eyes from God, simply trying to get your attention… not just to slow down…but to stop everything you’re doing… and just listen to Him. I pray for everyone’s spontaneous courage to act like fools to the world in this way…
stop everything we’re doing…everything we think is important..
and simply… taste the rain/catch handfuls of it/listen to Him/mix your tears in it/pray/get soaked/Live
Forever does He rain!