I think all of us have been caught in a downpour. How many of us have been inconvenienced? Annoyed? Had to rearrange plans? How many of us have grumbled, "Well it figures." How many have smiled? Laughed? How many of us as adults have danced in the rain?
I must have been drenched and dried out at least four times this past Sunday. Each time I had a different reaction. At first I was in awe of the power God was letting open on our meager land below. The thought came to mind, "what if I just went out there and stood?" There was something inviting and invigorating about the notion of a million drops pounding down across my body at once. Such a force each of these little mines could carry, yet I knew each would visit me without injury. Still, I resisted the urge. Instead I settled for watching the display from the comfort of a couch. I stared through the large glass window as if I was a child at the aquarium, nose pressed close to the shark tank wall, as to not miss a bit of the action. The sound was a familiar one. I never realize how much I've missed it until I hear it again. Almost as if the Lord is sitting high above reaving the engine periodically, pumping more and more rain out as He wishes.
Several other times through out the day there was rain. Leaving with my afternoon coffee...rain. Carrying things to the car... rain. Finding a place to park... rain. Hiking with a friend...rain. By the time later evening came I had settled into the idea that I was just going to have to be wet. I was nearing my home and yet again, needed to be out of the car. I couldn't change the situation. There was another downpour and I had no control to stop it. So I caved, I got out and I embraced the environment in which I was living. I danced. Now I know full well that the statement "dance in the rain" seems like something off a tourist trap t-shirt, bumper-sticker, greeting card, or at the very least the name of a chief from a cartoon Indian tribe. However, maybe there's something to be said for those cheesy sayings cemented into our everyday lives.
Any life can see several metaphorical downpours. In mine, I react the same way to those as I do to the wet, rainy ones. I resist, I complain, I change plans hastily only to see the storm end and I become disappointed. Then eventually I give in and accept that maybe the Lord has me in that specific place for a reason. My annoyance changes to appreciation and wonder. It's at that moment that I'm granted the freedom within myself to dance.