Someone once said the weather is often a reflection of one's current state of emotions. It's been raining here in Quiche and in the scenic Lagos Atitlan, where the 12 of us squad and team leaders spent the weekend at a retreat away from our teams and ministry, a much needed getaway for me.
The rain is common in Guatemala. It makes the mountains green, the flowers blossom, the fields ripe, the trees bear fruit and the veggies fresh. The raindrops are sticking to the windows of where we are staying. it makes a constant sound as the drops hit the ground, washing clean everything in sight, trees, leaves, mountains, rooftops, fields.
On the outside of my window, I notice a little cocoon, hanging onto the vine of a leafy plant by a thin thread. I'm afraid that in its fragility, the rain will wash the cocoon off the vine. So it's the first thing I do everyday I get back to my room, to check on the little cocoon whom I named "Jax", if you don't believe me, just ask Erin. To my relief, the cocoon stayed intact for all of the 2 days I've been in the hostel. I am that cocoon, hanging on to the great Vine that is Jesus Christ, where rain and storm will not shake me. I am waiting for the day where I burst out of my cocoon and turn into something glorious, maybe a blue winged butterfly?
In the same token, my heart also feels like an open field, receiving each raindrop with readiness. I am finally letting myself go, drinking from the source, letting the water soak into all the dry areas of me, drinking as if there's no tomorrow, letting every cracked, draught-infested crevice receive the sweet fresh moisture. It feels good to be soaked. To be soaked in His presence. There's nothing in this world that can do what a glorious rainfall can do to all the creatures of the earth. Just like there's nothing that can do what the Holy Spirit's presence can do for us.
Let it fall on me.
