I Want to Feel the Rain

Rain, depending on the intensity of it, can either represent God's showers of immediate blessings or the storms of life God sends our way to refine us and bless us in the future in ways we could not have imagined.

On a rainy morning in May of 2003, Chuck and I headed to the hospital to receive God's fourth little blessing into our lives. Never did we imagine the storm that had been brewing undetected for nine months. Our son Will was discovered just after birth to have a myleomeningocele, a hole in his spine, a condition more commonly known as Spina Bifida. With our baby life-flighted to another state for intensive neonatal care, Chuck and I plunged ourselves into this new world of being special needs parents. We learned a whole new language and a whole new way of caring for an infant. We also had a healthy dose of denial; when we took him home from the hospital 2 surgeries and 7 days later, we thought we'd get on with our normal lives.

That was not be.

Less than two weeks later, our baby was life-flighted back to the hospital in Birmingham for failure to thrive. As Chuck was walking to the car after Will was taken the second time, the rain fell lightly and the tears flowed freely. He did not know if Will would live or die. He was reminded of how Jacob spent a night wrestling for his blessing and he realized that Will would always have to wrestle for his blessing.

After the second hospitalization, we settled into a "new normal". No, things would not be the same, and they would not be as we had dreamed and planned, but we would survive. In fact we thrived, we flourished, but it took a tremendous amount of effort. Our new normal included docotr appointments, specialist appointments, therapy appointments, and 7-8 hours of time spent feeding our failure-to-thrive son each day.

Will got older, but his motor skills development was so far delayed. He smiled at 10 weeks. He laughed at 6 months. He crawled at 1 year. He did not talk, he could not stand, much less walk, and he could barely hold himself up. He made progress, but it was slow, slow, slow. He had 7 surgeries by the time he was 3 years old. His list of diagnoses kept growing longer.

At age 6, Will is walking with forearm crutches, talking so much - although he's difficult to understand - and starting to explore a world that has been largely inaccessible to him until now. For the first time ever, Will had grass stains on his socks from playing in the yard at the farm. Although he'd rahter be watching videos, he is beginning to interact with nature and take initiative with exploring. Last Saturday, a rain shower came up while we were at the farm house. Will said, "I want to feel the rain," and then he walked to the edge of the porch, held onto the rough cedar post, and extended his hand as far as he could to feel the rain. Then he moved to the porch steps so he could feel it with his whole body. He remarked with delight at the sensation of the rain coming down.

I took a mental picture of the moment - the outstretched arm, reaching out to embrace something new. I can still hear the sweet, sweet sound of his voice as he said, "I want to feel the rain."

Dear Lord, I want to feel the rain, too. I want not just your showers of blessings, but also the storms of life that shape me and refine and bring me blessings I never could have imagined. Blessings like Will. Give me the courage to stand in the rain and feel Your love pouring down, even through the pain.