A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning, and just outside the door of the Wal-Mart.
We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day. The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance in which we were all caught.
"Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Let 's run through the rain!" She repeated.
"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated: "Mom, let's run through the rain."
"We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.
"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!’"
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I promise, you couldn't hear
anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.
Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some
would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's' life; a time when innocent trust could be nurtured so that it would bloom into faith.
"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said.
Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling, and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked, but they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.
And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.
There have been times in my life when I have been like the onlookers in the story, standing under the awning trying not to get wet, perhaps trying not to be touched by what they see in front of them. Something then happens, an Aaa-Ha, if you like, that changes everything and calls me to respond. The little girl's absolute faith in what her mother had told her about God's ability to take them through anything speaks to me and my own faith and says, “Pastor Ian, You are at this moment exactly where God wants you to be."
That little girl was exactly where she wanted to be at that moment. She wanted to be running in the rain, living that EXACT moment in her life and trusting in her mom that all of the other things in her life were being taken care of, either by mom or dad or by God.
When we are faced with illness, pain or grief we sometimes struggle to find words to express ourselves, and wonder how we will get through the next day or week or month. We do not want to accept we have lost control, and even less, believe that our lot is to be right where we are. We trouble ourselves even more with the unanswerable "what, why," and "how" questions to little or no avail. Ultimately, we will only obtain relief when we accept what has or is happening, try to make the best of it, and move on with our life, allowing time to be our friend and healer.
The mom in the story tried to put off the moment when she would throw off her inhibitions and, just like her daughter, accept life in the rain. She tried to delay the inevitable until finally she had no other option than to say: “If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing."
There are times in all our lives, whether we like it or not, when we will get wet. One of our most difficult lessons is accepting the loss and discomfort, and finding ways to move on. Why not be like the little girl: Let go and let God.