Joy in rainbows

It rained.

The big, blue-eyed sky filled with clouds ready to burst, some spilling over. 

Big, fat, teary drops. Small, silent, streaking rivulets.

Umbrellas and jackets obscured eyes and hearts that reflected Nature's mood. 

I cried. 

We all did. 

11 years of girl and joy, snuffed before her life was lived (though, by the stories, she did a mighty job of living those years). 

My heart broke as I watched "my" kids, her peers, silently march one by one to offer tribute and respect.

And I thought about rainbows. 

His name is Mike. 

I met him after church today. 

He didn't know that little girl, either. But because of that memorial service, he was invited to join us at church. 

And he did,

remarking, "We often can't see the Whys", knowing that he may very well be one. 

I thought about rainbows. 

Rain comes. Floods, too.

Rainbows are never visible while the thunder rolls and raindrops splash. 

Rainbows come after the storm. 

Rainbows are a promise: No flood will ever again entirely destroy. 

Our reminder of the promise comes after the storm, not during. At the times we feel drowned by Whys, that perhaps we may be overcome by the deluge, we trust there will be a rainbow - not because there is one to see, but because there is one to be seen. 

And that is faith. 

So sleep, sweet Marais, and wake when He calls you. And while you sleep, we'll be watching for rainbows. 

Photo: Wikipedia