Rain Love

This, remember, is the message you heard from the beginning:
we should love one another.

1 John 3:11

A storm is brewing just beyond my window. I’m still reeling over the abundance of rain which flooded parts of our neighborhood a few weeks ago. Though our local television meteorologist offers encouragement with a promise that sunshine will return tomorrow, she fails to dispel the gray which lurks beyond my window today.

It occurs to me that my knowledge of human nature fails me as much as my understanding of weather patterns on occasion. I sometimes ignore this wisdom and “push buttons” that would best be left alone. Though I know well what will come next if I attempt to have the last word, I speak in spite of myself. When the thunder in my adversary threatens, I push when I should let go. I forget to let love take care.

Today, as the rain continues, I will continue in my own effort to dispel the gray clouds from my attitude and to let the sun shine in.

Dear God, though the weather is very much out of my control, my attitudes and actions are my own. Help me to use them both with love and good will.

©2017 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Blessed!

Bless the Lord, O my soul;
and forget not all his benefits.

Psalm 103:2

It was a dreary Monday. As my husband backed the car out of the garage, large drops of rain assaulted our windshield. “I thought it wasn’t going to rain any more,” I grumbled. “It’s not supposed to,” Mike added, “but it is.” When we arrived at our destination, the rain had stopped. I looked upward and whispered, “Thank you!” Much to my surprise, this errand took only ten minutes. When we returned to the outdoors, I discovered that the dark gray clouds above were keeping their rain to themselves. “Wow!” I said aloud. Once again, I looked up and whispered, “Thank you!”

Later, I decided to run another errand. I headed to the bank with change which our parish children had collected for the poor. The gray sky continued to offer no further precipitation as I carted in containers filled with change. All was well until the coin machine sputtered and then stopped. After twenty-minutes of cleaning and adjusting, the teller decided they’d need a service call. He redeemed my receipt for the change taken, I thanked him for his effort and headed to a second bank. Much to my surprise, the same thing happened. When the teller assured me that this coin machine simply needed servicing, I laughed aloud. When I explained what had happened earlier, the young man couldn’t resist chuckling with me. With that, I carried those heavy containers back to my car for another day. Once again, there was no rain and I repeated my thanks.

When I sat to begin this writing, gentle tapping drew my eyes to the window. Those gray clouds had given way and rain began to fall. How could I not thank God for this oddly satisfying morning?

Creator God, thank you for giving us hearts which recognize your blessings in all their forms.

©2017 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Counter The Storm With Love

Little children,
let us love in deed and in truth
and not merely talk about it.

1 John 3:18

A storm is brewing just beyond my window. What an odd phenomenon to hear the local television meteorologist speak of the possibility of snow. We’ve just turned our calendars to November! Though she offers encouragement with a promise that sunshine will return tomorrow, it fails to dispel the gray which lurks beyond my window today. Though I do enjoy the cold, I enjoy sunlight as well.

It occurs to me that, on occasion, my knowledge of human nature fails me as much as the weather does. I sometimes ignore this wisdom and “push buttons” that would best be left alone. Though I know well what will come next if I attempt to have the last word, I speak in spite of myself. When the thunder in my adversary threatens, I push when I should let go. I forget to let love take care.

Like raking leaves after a windstorm or shoveling snow after a blizzard, I make feeble attempts to right the things I’ve done wrong. Sometimes, I succeed. Sometimes, the damage is too extensive to repair. As I affirm my resolve not to repeat these transgressions, the sun breaks through the clouds. God remains with me as I transform my good intentions into good deeds.

Patient God, help me respond to every storm with rays of love, just as you do.

©2016 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Our Beloved Souls

The souls of the just are in the hand of God,
and no torment shall touch them.

Wisdom 3:1

I plan to walk today. As I grab my jacket, I hear raindrops tapping on the window. “Thank God for hoods,” I say as I head out the door.

I don’t mind walking in the rain. My willingness to endure downpours great and small bolsters my sense of well-being. Walking in the rain also offers a unique perspective to which I’m usually not privy. Everything looks different in the rain. The sky exhibits great character. Who knew that there were so many varied shades of gray? Trees glisten far more subtly than they do in sunlight and more beautifully, too. Dirty cars look newly waxed and sewer caps shine. Neighborhood birds become nearly silent which allows me to hear drops of rain falling into the pond I pass. I also hear individual drops as they pelt my hooded head.

As I walk further, I consider my loved ones who have passed away. This is All Souls Day and we celebrate the amazing souls who have touched our lives before moving on to the hereafter. With each loss, raindrops fell from my eyes on days much like this one. In spite of their absences which still pain me, I offer a prayer of thanksgiving for each one. I also pray on their behalf that they enjoy the unique perspective that comes with a home in heaven. As I continue my walk, I feel quite certain that my loved ones are reminiscing as well.

Loving God, thank you for the gift of this life and the new life that will follow.

©2016 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

The Right Umbrella

When the afflicted man called out, the Lord heard,
and from all his distress he saved him.

Psalm 34:7

It’s raining again. The downpour the other day didn’t keep me indoors, and I’ve decided the same will be true today. I’ve donned my hooded jacket and embarked upon my familiar trek through the neighborhood. As I walk, I enjoy the blurry perspective which persistent drops force upon me. As I walk further, it occurs to me that the emotional rains which fall too often in our lives are not as enjoyable.

A teen I know and love is enduring some tough times. Though the storm brewing overhead is partially this young ones choice, those who care are doing their best to provide the right umbrella to keep this kid dry. In the mean time, I find myself discouraged. Just as I can’t do a thing about today’s rainy forecast, I feel at a loss in this case. What can I do to help?

As I consider the lifetime of storms I’ve endured, I must acknowledge that those who loved me through these things proved to be great blessings simply by being there. Perhaps I can be of help by doing the same.

Rain falls in our lives far too often. When it does, we simply do our best to determine which umbrella will keep our loved ones dry.

Compassionate God, keep this teen and all concerned in your care. Give them the strength to face all that lies ahead. Give them the peace to endure, knowing that you are with them every step of the way.

©2015 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Dispel The Storm

This, remember, is the message you heard from the beginning:
we should love one another.

1 John 3:11

A storm is brewing just beyond my window. I am still reeling over the abundance of rain we have received while our friends in California and Texas among other places suffer a lengthy drought. Though our local television meteorologist offers encouragement with a promise that sunshine will return tomorrow, she fails to dispel the gray which lurks beyond my window today. She also fails to promise rain to our far-away neighbors.

It occurs to me that my knowledge of human nature fails me as much as my understanding of weather patterns on occasion. I sometimes ignore this wisdom and “push buttons” that would best be left alone. Though I know well what will come next if I attempt to have the last word, I speak in spite of myself. When the thunder in my adversary threatens, I push when I should let go. I forget to let love take care.

Dear God, though the weather is very much out of my control, my attitudes and actions are my own. Help me to use them both with love and good will.

©2015 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved