I love the sound of it.
I love how as we are walking back from class late in the afternoon, dark looming clouds start to roll in through the green mountains. One by one drops begin to fall on us and by the time we are under our tin roof the pitter-patter has turned into a roaring percussion in our apartment. Without a word someone turns on piano music and in the graying light my whole team becomes pensively quiet. With a cup of tea and a pen ‘n journal in hand, we prop ourselves up in the sitting room.
I love how it smells.
I love how it cleanses.
Some days we go outside and tilt our faces to the sky, letting the downpour wash away the dirt and sweat from our faces.
But most of all, I love how the rain invites me to sit and be still. It’s the one of the rare times I allow myself to stop working and simply listen.
I’ve been doing a lot more of that recently…
listening that is.
What I hear often surprises me.
The voice is different than my own thoughts- kinder, gentler, and more gracious.
And deep down I know it is true.
I’ve always heard God’s voice, but I’ve never stop to listen quite as much as I do now.
The more I listen, the more I want to listen…
his voice is life to me.
I’ve gotten caught up in this cycle that if I am not listening, something feels very wrong. That’s when I know that if I can’t hear him, I have to get away until I do.
In the morning He is the first thing I think about. I’ve been getting up earlier and earlier (before the break of dawn) because I crave his voice so badly.
I can’t stand just being Annie anymore.
And yet, at the same, I feel the most me that I ever have.
I feel complete. I feel whole. I feel at rest.
His Spirit feels rain on my soul.
And I am standing underneath the heavens with my mouth wide open – thirsty for more. The more I drink from Him, the more I desire.
It’s becoming an addiction…
and yet, it’s one that I never want to quit.
I didn’t always like rain.
Actually, I used to hate it. I hated how made me wet and uncomfortable.
It messed up my hair – washing away my laborious attempts at perfection.
As the sight of greying clouds I would run for cover.
But I’ve grown to love the rain.
Truth is, listening to God’s voice isn’t always comfortable either. Sometimes it messes up my plans. Sometimes he tells me things that are hard to hear.
And time after time He messes up my attempts at perfection.
But I’ve grown to love his Spirit as well.
And it’s changed everything.
