Rain, Mud, Light

Sometimes I have to remind myself that rain is just rain.  I got here not long after the Great Rains which flooded Houston and made me rethink my plans to move several states away.  There have been some serious rains since then, the kind where you have permission to stay home and read books and watch old movies.  But sometimes, it's just rain.

So I was invited to the 80th birthday party of a member of my congregation yesterday.  It was in an area of town I am not familiar with yet.  But, I have GPS, right?  No problem.  I also noticed that it was supposed to rain.  Actually, it was supposed to rain quite a lot.  But, it was just rain.

So I went to the birthday party, where I was greeted very warmly by the family and introduced as the new pastor, and given appetizers.  Several other members of the congregation were also there.  It was quite a celebration, and quite a crowd, although a bit soggier than they had hoped.  There was a tent in back yard, and we were out there when it was dripping, and then turned into a downpour, and just kept on raining.

We all crammed into the house for the main course and dessert, for a birthday toast and for more conversations.  And it just kept on raining.  But, it was just rain.

I may not have mentioned that people were parked all over in the yard.  There was not enough room in the driveway.

At some point, I thought it might be good if I went home.  I still had a couple of things to do to get ready for the Sunday services.  I heard some mumbling about some people being stuck.  I got worried.

There was a crowd of people outside.  They had flashlights.  There were cars stuck in more than one place in the yard and the driveway.  They were together working on strategies to get the cars out of the mud.  Some of the strategies were wet, and muddy.  But people were working together, to get each other out of the mud, to get unstuck, to get home.

It was still raining.

I noticed that I was parked on the grass.  So I checked to see if I was stuck and found out that I could get my car off the grass.  There was a little issue of where I would go after that.  The party's hostess volunteered that her son could lead me with his flashlight, so I would know where I could drive and where I could not drive.

That's what he did, standing in the rain, getting sopping wet.  He walked right in front of my car, showing me just where to go and where to avoid, where the narrow path was that I needed to drive on, and where I would be on solid ground.

It is Advent, and suddenly I think about the promise that God will come.  I don't know why it is that I think it.  Maybe it's the dark night, or the figure with the light, walking ahead of me.  Maybe it's the mud, and all of the people getting stuck, that makes me think of God's humanity, the incarnation.  God came here to share all of it:  the mud, the rain, the icy cold, the darkness and the danger.  God came here to share all of it:  the fear of being lost, the pain of loneliness, of sorrow, of death:  and to redeem it.

It is Advent, and in the dark, muddy, rainy night all I can think of is Emmanuel.

God is with us.

Listening to the Rain

I am listening to it rain outside.  It sounds a little beautiful, for some reason:  not too hard, not too gentle.  We need the rain.

I am surprised to hear myself say that.  We came here just after a season of torrential rain.  I thought that I would never say "We need rain" again.

I am listening to the rain and reflecting on the fact that I have been here just over a month now.  Tonight, I'm a little down because I thought that I would be bringing my car home and it would be all fixed up and I could check that off of my list.  But they told me that they got the wrong part and I would need to bring the car back tomorrow.

For some reason, tonight, I am thinking that ministry is hard.  I am not whining about it.  There are a lot of hard jobs in the world, and they are hard in different ways.  But ministry requires skills and also trusting God, which is tricky for everyone.

There are different kinds of hard, of course.  There are the hard times of ministry in tragedy and grieving.  There have been times when I thought my heart could not bear it, when I held a stillborn baby, or heard a terrible diagnosis.  There are the hard times of ministry when your congregation is struggling and there do not seem to be any good solutions.  Faith is not magic.

Then there is the hard work of starting, of not knowing people yet, of finding my way. There is the hard work of feeling the weight of expectations, some of them my own. There is the hard work of being patient, even with myself, of trying to find my own pace. There is the hard work of learning to fail, and to succeed. There is the hard work of trusting God, trusting that God has given us the gifts we need. There is the hard work of listening, listening to God, listening to each other, listening to the rain.

I need rain.

Scout Predicts the Weather

Suddenly, this evening, Scout went and sat in one of her safe places.  When my husband tried to get her to come so she could go out for the last time in the evening, she growled at him.

This is not like her.

It rained and rained and rained Thursday evening.  There were flash flood warnings in the morning.  It was supposed to storm a lot on Friday night too, but most of it went around us.

The weekend prediction was that the humidity and the temperature would get lower.  It should be (I hope) a nice morning to have church on the lawn.

Then, suddenly, Scout did her weird "safe place" act.  I was sure that it was not supposed to rain tonight. 

So, we finally got Scout to go outside.

As soon as she came back in, it started raining.

I should listen to her more often, I think.

I think she knows more than I give her credit for.

Waiting for Rain

.....don't know if we'll get it.

The grass is brown around here. My basil is wilting, despite some recent revival efforts. It was unseasonably cool last week, but is back to beautiful summer weather again, except for one thing:

We need rain.

I thought I heard a report that there was a chance of rain tonight. I am hoping for that. I'm hoping for the deep continuous soaking rain that refreshes and renews everything and everyone. However, my husband said that the TV radar showed it was just possible that the rain might miss us altogether, heading north.

I am also praying for people who are not just needing rain: they are in the midst of a serious drought. I received an Email from Lutheran World Relief (which is, by the way, a top-notch organization and one of the reasons I am Lutheran) about drought in East Africa.

Please keep them in your prayers.

A while back someone told me they visited our congregation, and they didn't really like the sermon that day because it was about water. This person said, "I like more practical sermons."

I wonder what she meant by that?

There is nothing more practical than water.

It's Raining....

...and it's a good thing. You know, April showers, and all that. I can think of very few negatives regarding rain at this time of year. Oh, here's one: after Scout goes out for a walk, she smells like a wet dog.

We had a baptism this morning at church. You know, April showers and all that. Beautiful saris were worn by Indian relatives of the baby, decorating the church like spring foliage. There were at least three other babies in church this morning, including, Ami, the baby named for an eagle. I want more of this, I thought. I want a church that looks and sounds like God's kingdom, different accents and colors and voices lifting up.

The couple next door are still waiting for their baby. The doctor keeps saying any day now. April showers and all that. I am so excited. We're planning to send over some fried chicken for supper, because she is on bed rest and can't cook.

The senior pastor was giving away copies of a book of sermons he had published many years ago, at his last congregation. It's called Rituals of Redemption, based on a sermon series he wrote on liturgy. Anyone want a copy? I'll send you one. April showers, and all that.

Perhaps I should contact his publisher. I think this particular publisher you have to put up some of your own money, but it might be worth it to have something out there, with my name on it. Then someday maybe I'll be able to send you a copy of my book too (I keep saying that). But the April showers and all that have made me hopeful.