Praying for Rain
Last September, my mental health had reached an all-time low. I was still refusing anti-depressants, still unaware of my psychosis, still suicidal, every day harder than the last. I was at my breaking point.
If I’m being honest, I was also having a major faith crisis. I was unsure that a loving, sympathetic higher power existed in a world so full of pain and hurt. I felt like if there was a God, He seemed to stop listening to little old me. I convinced myself I was at fault for this. Women tackle motherhood every day, I just wasn’t strong enough for it, and therefore God had given up on me, and who could blame him for that? I deserved to be given up on.
One night, as my husband and child slept soundly next to me, I was awake, per usual, battling back intrusive thoughts. Tears streamed down my face, dampening my pillow. I don’t remember my exact invocation, but I know it was along the lines of -
“Why me? Why this? Why now? This life you have given me is everything I have ever prayed for, why does it feel this way? Take this pain away or take me away from this, I don’t know how much longer I can go on”
And then, I joked “and while you’re at it, we could use some rain, a rainy day sounds nice”
I’m not even sure the last part could be considered a prayer, it was almost an afterthought, my ADD brain in full force.
The next day, unsurprisingly, I was not cured, I still felt the same, maybe worse.
I went about my day as normal, taking Ridge to school, going home to work, nothing special.
Reese called me on his lunch break to let me know he was headed back to the office, as a storm in the area had prevented them from finishing their job, “it wasn’t even supposed to rain today…” he said.
After I hung up the phone, I opened the blinds in my office.
It was the perfect rainstorm. The sky was just gray enough to shield the sun, and it steadily poured the way it seems to do in every movie about Seattle. It was the most picturesque rainy day.
In this moment, for the first time in a very long time, I felt comforted, optimistic, even. God’s response rang clear, “I hear you and I need you to trust me.”
Face to face with God’s perfect timing, my faith was renewed. I wasn’t being punished, I wasn’t unworthy, I wasn’t at fault. That wasn’t the case at all. I am loved, I am a work in progress, and He is ensuring I survive this and come out stronger than before.
To this day, when I am having a rough time, I end my prayer with a plea for rain, or sunshine, or sometimes snow in the middle of summer. With a wink and a nod, my meteorological inside joke with God has become my subtle self-reminder to keep the faith, HE is in control.
“I believe in the Sun, even when it is not shining.
I believe in love, even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God, even when he is silent”
