RV rain is similar to “front porch” rain. It’s the rain that invites you. It asks you to sit and listen for awhile. (More windows per sq feet of space in the RV commands me to take in this subtle but powerful”show”.) I watch and hear the drops hitting the roof. It’s loud; thunderously loud. Even though the rain is “light”, it’s impact is large in our little RV home. There is no avoiding it’s presence. And so I lean into it. I readily accept this rain as necessary and productive as I traverse the journey from summer to fall. Somehow it meets my melancholy heart and does a little soothing as it falls and puddles onto the earth. It feels like night in the middle of the day and I can’t help but think of Texas.
Somewhere a farmer has been praying for rain. Somewhere a father prays for protection from the rain.
As I turn the candles on, I am praying for those experiencing the rain and wind accompanying hurricane Harvey. With every drop I experience here in my world, I pray for comfort, protection and restoration.
No matter where we are, we are all so similarly at the mercy of another.