Showers

I have been stewing over His words. Letting  them simmer and swirl. I have wanted to steep my heart with them. Wring out all the truth like some used-up tea bag. Getting the last drop of flavor. But not really sure that I like this particular taste.
You see, I am a sunshine kind of girl. I prefer bright, cheerful days. Ones where I can bask in the loveliness. Feel warmth upon my face.  But these words from my God, they discuss showers. You know what I mean. Those days when skies and faces are drab and dripping. When life is overcast with realities, hard to bear. When hours stretch into days and weeks, of gray. When you wonder when or if, the sun will shine again. When you will discover hope. Or grace. Or peace. That lasts.
I know my God speaks truth. He always does. But what happens when those words are hard to hear? When the gray has stretched you so thin that one more snap of that rubber band and it will break? And smack you hard in the process?
This is what He says. "I will send showers in season; there will be showers of blessing. " Ezekial 34:26
So what He is promising me is rain. At the right time. For the right length.
A season of wet. And damp. (See the tears streaming?) Oh I know the farmers count on all that rain. It makes the plants grow and flourish. But remember me? The sunshine kind of girl? Who doesn't get excited by overcast days? Remember, Lord? How cold I get? How my shoes get sodden when I trod through all that?
Oh, I see what the rest of His words say. Those showers will be blessings. Good insured by God's favor. Everybody wants a blessing, right? It sounds so sweet. So lovely. So sunny day. But as Laura Story says in her song Blessings:
"What if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise."
What then?
Then. I. Believe. Him.
I choose to believe that all those dark clouds piling, are for my good.
I believe that He catches each tear, savoring each childish cry. Weeping with me.
I believe that He is good. Compassionate. Merciful. And even now, I am firmly held in His arms.
I believe that these ARE showers of blessings. Gifts that He is bestowing. Because He loves. Me. That I too will grow and flourish. Even in this storm. Especially because of this rain.
This is, His mercy in disguise.