a few rain drops

This morning I had my coffee on the patio. Due to travel and oppressive heat and humidity, this was the first time in nearly 2 weeks. As I approached my chair, I noticed the faintest rain drops, hitting me like half a pin prick. I sat down anyway. I clutched my coffee cup and covered the writing book I intended to make some notes in. It's one thing for me to get a little damp; no use messing up a perfectly fine notebook.

The rain strengthened a little but never more than a persistent mist. What's the harm in getting a little damp. Words to a couple of songs came to mind, "let the pain and the sorrow be washed away. ." and " as deep cries out to deep " I sat in the rain and in my pain and in the gain of a lesson refreshed in my heart. It's a bit too early to move on to it just now, for it feels right to allow the pain, even if I know I should pray that it be washed away. So much of my life has existed in not allowing my feelings, my fears, my outbursts (I'm still not at all good with this one), especially the things that I was told (sometimes silently) are unacceptable . . . so a little simmering...then the washing away. Rain feels good on the face.