Rain Drops Falling on My Head

The pouring rain has been entertaining us for days here. Its drops have been racing down my bedroom window, down streams of memory, pursuing strains of rachmaninoff's vocalise. They pause slowly to watch a girl dancing on cold slippery tile of a flooded courtyard of a home by the sea. The laughter fractures in the distance.

I keep thinking of proverbs 20:30 "Blows and wounds cleanse away evil, and beatings purge the inmost being.." Keep thinking of how most of the beauty I've observed is wrought by violence, by struggle. Flowers that break the dark surface of the earth, the child born out of a womb, mountains shaped by storms. My own life restored after being broken because Another was broken for me. Thinking of Christ dying for my sins, wounded, beaten, so I could be forgiveness and restored. Amazing.

Amazing to hear the brokeness of the night trickle down my bedroom window. I will wait for beauty.