life.

"Lord, thank you for the rain and that it gives life" she prayed.

Heads bowed all around that circle, I hear the murmuring of agreement. Like a perfectly cued chorus, the rain grows stronger around us: the melody echoing off the tin roof, engulfing us in its musical notes…singing out to us, singing life to us.

Rain gives life.
Grace like rain.
Grace like rain gives life.

The earth could not survive without rain. We cannot survive without grace.

The earth can teach me: the way earth, eager to receive, soaks it all in. Allowing the rain to embed itself deep down. Allowing the rain to saturate so that even the hardest places become soft and malleable. The earth drinks in the rain, welcomes the floods.

Because the earth knows something I am failing to learn: rain - deep rooted rain - brings life.

And so it is with grace.

Yet, at most, I simply acknowledge its existence. I brush a sloppy mess of thanksgiving over these daily graces and move on. And all the while my hardened heart, unsatisfied, wanders and seeks something more.

But what if I let this song of grace pour over me daily? Washing me in its extravagant harmony of love, forgiveness, kindness, mercy. Wooing me gently to open my hands, my heart, to accept. To give in. To let it take me over. It might ruin me in the most beautiful way possible.

Yet this is a risk I am willing to take.