Raindrops on Roses

We had our first real fall rain on Wednesday; a steady pour from early morning through mid-afternoon filled our little rain gauge past the two-inch mark. Around four or five o’clock, though, the rain lifted and the sun broke through, dazzling the clouds white in growing patches of blue and shimmering droplets on the crepe myrtle leaves. Our roses usually burst forth in a final bloom once October cools the temperatures, and I paused on my way back from the garage to see one of my favorite things—yes, raindrops on roses. Maybe that sounds cheesy, but I honestly wrote “my favorite things” before realizing what was coming next. ☺

The beauty of it all caught my breath, though, especially since I have lately been feeling rather burdened by metaphoric rain—for our family, for relatives, for others I don’t really know but feel like I do. I have been reminded that often life is hard, sometimes very hard: chronic health problems, broken marriages, disappointed hopes and dreams. I’ve been realizing that the Lord doesn’t always promise us happy ever afters on earth, though He does in heaven. Often He does bring gloriously redeeming turn-arounds on earth, as much of Hebrews 11 details, but there is also the rest of the chapter, the “others” who “went about destitute, afflicted, ill-treated” and did not experience God’s deliverance from trial in this life.

But the sunlight the other day, beaming brighter than ever on a world freshly washed, the trembling raindrops making the roses even more beautiful, ministered to my heart. Rain never lasts forever—the sunlight always comes again, whether on earth or in heaven. Good Friday was as dark as a day could possibly be, but Sunday came. And because it did, we have hope.

“In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33