for lessons learned in how to thirst for You

Dear God,

You made it gloomy outside today and I like it.  I like looking back every so often to the window behind me and seeing the world wrapped in a quiet darkness.  Something about the chill and the gloom outside makes me feel all cozy—like you wrapped a blanket of clouds around me and then tucked me in with love.

And while I do love the sun, I tire of it.  I tire of the same 75-degree weather year-round.  I’d love for it to be hot enough to swim in the ocean or cold enough to bundle up in a sweatshirt and boots.  I’d love to melt in hot inland winds and while I wouldn’t like to freeze, I’d love to have an excuse to make hot chocolate and stay under my covers all day long.

If I’m being honest with you, I don’t love southern california so much anymore.  I know you know that, but I need to say it because it kind of hurts.  I fear that I’m missing the heat of another summer and even more, I fear to miss the colors of another fall.

I would like to move soon.  Maybe to place with an abundance of flowers and trees.  A place with a lack of traffic and power lines.  To immerse myself in a quieter place that I might learn to breathe slow again.

But I know You have not beckoned me forward and in the midst of this season, I know You ask for my trust.  I would think it would be easy to trust You, but when I find myself staring into the unseen future and blaming You for this drought in my heart, I know I still have a lot to learn.

In Eat Pray Love, Julia Roberts talks about an aching of the heart and says, “It won’t last forever—nothing does.”  And as I write this letter, I realize that these gorgeously comforting clouds are a reminder of the same thing: that change is imminent.  It seems that has been a theme these days…what with my thoughts about endless transformation and shedding skin.  But what I also want to learn is how to be content in THIS place—to not always be searching for the next thing, but to pinpoint my large soul within this small body and reassure it that all is as it should be, even if it doesn’t feel the way sometimes.

So thank you for the clouds, God.  Even if they dissipate into the sun’s rays as the day progresses, I will remember the feel of Your morning mist on my cheeks--a little reminder that while I am still being Changed,

You will never cease

to stay

the

same.

And for right now, that’s all I need to know.

“Send some rain, would You send some rain?

'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again

And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade…

Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?

Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down?

Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid...

But maybe not, not today...

Maybe You'll provide in other ways

And if that's the case…

We'll give thanks to You

With gratitude

For lessons learned in how to thirst for You

How to bless the very sun that warms our face

If You never send us rain…”

--gratitude by nichole nordeman