This morning I woke up before I usually do. I laid in bed, trying to find a place between resting and not oversleeping. No dice. I got up and started on the day. Why not?
After I fed the furry hordes, Dakota and I stepped out in the dark to toss a ball around. A half moon shone down. I spotted the Little Dipper through a crack in the trees. The indigo sky looked fresh scrubbed. Last night’s rain had sent down a shower of pine needles and sweetened the air. The Douglas firs and cedars, scraping the heavens, swayed in the breeze. The beauty of the scene caught my heart.
Driving in to work later on, clouds of all shapes and sizes filled the sky. Big ones. Little ones. Most shone edged with gold as they powered past, sky-boats boosted by wind. A mist rose off the shorelands, a creeping, mysterious shroud.
We have many names for rain in this region. Like…rain. Drizzle. Mist. Sprinkles, which sound delicious right now (think: cupcake). And my person favorite, “mizzle”, the unique combination of mist+drizzle. Haven’t seen that anywhere but in Shelton. The rain here, it can soak you in a matter of minutes. It rains with a purpose. We can get a dozen inches of rain in a month and sometimes more. It rains and doesn’t stop, pretty much for months, typically starting in earnest during November. Even October can be iffy. We’ve had just over 3 inches this month. As of today, we stand at nearly 35.5 inches of rain for 2018. You can bet that total will increase greatly before December 31.
Washingtonians have a love-hate relationship with rain. It enables the state to grow great crops of apples, berries, Christmas trees, you name it. And rivers flood. Sinkholes appear. It’s a nasty business, all this precipitation. Mud abounds. Ladies, wear flats at your peril. But rain also cleanses. It purifies the air. It removes dead bugs and leaves and dirt off windshields. It quenches the earth’s thirst. It keeps the green going all year long. So many shades of green! I could never count them all.
It makes me think of salvation. We can be washed in Christ’s blood, again and again. We can come to Him every day and ask for forgiveness. We can seek and find healing. We can be cleansed. The fountain of Jesus’ blood, our holy source, doesn’t run dry. Our thirst for wholeness will never be quenched this side of heaven. Yet we only have to ask to be fresh-scrubbed again.
Matthew 26:28 – “This is the blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins”.