Once during the school year, my adviser passed on sharing my umbrella while walking in the rain. She explained that feeling the raindrops on her skin was like experiencing the closest thing to a physical touch from God. I thought this was beautiful, but I'll come back to this later...
A few days ago, in the backyard of my mother's house, I was day-dreaming of what "my perfect life" would be----I'd be a folksy back-up singer and acoustic guitarist in a big colorful band that tours the country in a bus. We'd be the type of band that actually enjoys being with each other on and off stage. We'd sing lively and somber songs about faith and life and love and sorrow. Back at home, in our cozy apartment in a small borough of a big city, my husband and I would grow little food plants and drink craft beers and french pressed coffees..---I could really go on and on with this, and I did in my day-dream. It seemed such a sweet life of simplicity and good, beautiful things. It felt like my heart was asking the Father if having a life that felt the way this day-dream did was possible, something that I could actually have. Like an answer, raindrops slowly started to fall. What my adviser described seemed to prove true here. The little drops felt like kisses from the Father and my heart felt really full.
Maybe the answer wasn't yes, but I'm sure the God of the universe knows how to orchestrate story-book moments like these to bring comfort and assurance to His daughter. Maybe my life won't turn out to be like my day-dreams-----and maybe that's a good thing.
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