playing in the rain

In Amarillo, the spring and summer rains came hard and fast. They didn’t last long, but when they were there, the flat terrain of the streets created the perfect water playground. The gutters would fill up so quickly that the drains couldn’t empty the streets fast enough. The water would lap over the side and rise even with the yard or sidewalk. I loved it when it rained. My brother and I would run out into the midst of the storm as fast as our young legs could take us. We didn’t put on shoes or worry about our clothes. There wasn’t time for any of that. We didn’t want to waste a moment. We were driven to splash, jump, dance, spin, twirl and just flat out enjoy the rain as it poured down on us. We delighted in it. When it was over (or getting dark), my mom would greet us at the door with a towel for each of us in her hand. We would wrap ourselves in the towels but leave a trail of muddy water all the way to the laundry room where we’d leave my mom a pile of rain-soaked clothes. She never complained or scolded us. In fact, I think she may have enjoyed it as much as we did…


And then I grew up I guess…and rain became either a grand annoyance or a useful necessity instead of a wondrous delight. I don’t remember the age I first looked out on the cooling summer rains with disinterest or the first time I reached for an umbrella. I don’t remember the first puddle I stepped in that raised within me the feeling of UHHHH instead of excitement. BUT it happened and with it I lost something…but not today!

Today there was that weird combination that only happens with summer rains. The sun shone brilliantly but rains fell in large cooling drops. My 2 year old wanted to go outside. I said, “No, it’s raining.” He looked at me, shook his head and said, “Not dark.”

And all of a sudden I remembered the puddles of my youth and we both went running into the backyard. We didn’t put on shoes or worry about clothes. There wasn’t time for any of that. We didn’t want to waste a moment. We danced and jumped and spun around. All of a sudden, I was 6 again and rain was a mysteriously wonderful delight. When it ended, we were soaking wet and grassy but I didn’t mind…

And I enjoyed it as much as he did…I got something back that I had lost. Now, I don’t plan to give up my umbrellas or play in every storm but in the process of becoming not me, I’m beginning to learn that wonderment stirs my affections for God and I become renewed when I free myself enough to dance in the rain.

I should do it more often…what about you? When was the last time you played in the rain?