Blessing in the Rain

Today the sky wore shades of gray, clouds rolled in and chased the blue away. No golden sun, no shining flame, just heaven whispering my name.

Soft little kisses began to fall, cool on my face, I felt them all. I love the rain, I love the breeze, the way it humbles towering trees.

Not long into my quiet walk, the sky began her tender talk. She didn’t shout, she didn’t complain, she let it out in silver rain.

She must have been heavy, full of ache, holding more than she could take. So she opened wide and let it pour, and somehow became lighter than before.

And I thought, when the sky gets sad, she cries. And when she cries, the earth comes alive.

Without her tears the ground would dry, fields would hunger, rivers die. What looks like sorrow from above is mercy falling down in love.

So I walked in the rain, soaked in the pain, but I felt something break, not loss, but release again.

Maybe sadness isn’t the end. Maybe it bends what’s tight in the chest so the heart can mend. The sky’s tears are blessing in disguise. Because sometimes you have to let it fall for something new to rise.

And I got wet, but I didn’t complain.

Because I’ve learned, even grief can be grace when it falls like rain.