It’s raining. Again. Feels like it’s been raining for a solid month! Oh, there have been moments of respite, moments when the weather clears and the sun shines bright against a high blue sky. But lately those moments have been few and far between. Mostly its been gray and wet and and chilly. A perfect match for the bad day I had not long ago. It was a bad day for a bad day, if you know what I mean. I had church duties that called to me, and I, frankly, didn’t want to answer.
It began in the morning, with no definable cause, no moment I could point to and say this is why. I imagine you have had days like that, maybe even weeks, or longer, when you just felt . . . Sad? Broken? Empty? Or, to borrow from the weather, you felt cloudy, overcast, drizzly, cold—you know what I’m talking about. That was me that morning. And I took that me into my interactions and activities throughout the day, starting with a bible class I was supposed to lead. I was in no condition to lead anything, much less a spiritual discussion, but I felt like maybe that would help me bust out of my funk. It didn’t.
The class itself was not a success. I didn’t handle the discussion the way I normally do, and innocent comments and counterpoints felt like attacks. My patience was thin, my nerves were on edge, and my feelings were brittle, and by the end of the class everyone knew it. I left the room so frustrated with myself, so discouraged, even angry at my inability to control my own feelings. It was raining outside. It was storming inside. I skipped church and went home, unable or unwilling to face any of those class members after my (self-described) failure.
Of course, after a few hours my internal storm began to pass and by the next day I was feeling a little better. I sought out some of the class members and apologized for how I reacted to them in class, and, in doing so, I learned (or was reminded of) something. The storm, whether inside or outside, doesn’t do away with the sun or the blue sky. Instead, it comes between our eyes and the beauty that always exists unchanged behind the storm. Clouds hide the sun; they don’t destroy it. My friends were still my friends even as I was going through my little downpour. They were still there, and when the clouds drifted away I could see them just as clear as ever.
In this way, each of my friends is a little example of the Father who said, “Surely I am with you always, even to the end of the world” (Matthew 28:20). In the storm, through the storm, behind the storm, the sun shines, the Father waits, and friends endure. Lord help me to be that kind of friend.
Peace.
