I love the clean, refreshing smell it brings.
I love staring out the window and watching it fall.
I love the coolness it brings to a hot summer evening.
I love hearing the pitter patter on ground, especially when I'm falling asleep.
I love the green growth that follows in a dry desert.
I love feeling of it on my face and through my hair.
I love rain.
But sometimes the rain means something more than water drops falling from the sky.
They are Christ's tears.
He suffered for my pain... my afflictions...
He did it so He would be filled with mercy for me.
And know how to succor me in my infirmities.
(Paraphrased from Alma 7:11-12)
A week ago Friday when my life changed in an instant, it was raining outside.
I found our softest Kleenexes, wrote a love note on the box, and headed to the hospital. If anyone has ever shed more than a few tears at the hospital, you would know that their tissues are pretty much like using thin printer paper. They barely dry the tears and they scratch. I knew my Grandma would appreciate something a little more soothing as she experienced the shock of loosing her husband.
As I drove the short distance to the hospital, with my windshield wipers going, I kept thinking about John 11:35, "Jesus wept." He was crying that night with my family... with me. Although death is not the end, it does not make the separation any easier. And Christ knows that pain; He had compassion for Mary & Martha when their brother Lazarus died. He had compassion for me as my Grandpa died.
I tried to help bring comfort to others with softer Kleenexes. But ultimately, the best comfort is found in the Savior. It is found through His Atonement. It is found crying on His shoulder as He gives rest. It is found through His compassion as He weeps along with us.
The rain that Friday night meant much more to me than just rain.
It meant empathy.
It meant mercy.
It meant comfort.
It meant succoring.