There is something that is completely satisfying for me to be in my home on a gray day with the rain coming down. I like the ebb and flow of the sounds; the rise and fall of rhythms syncopated by God. I like watching the rivulets of water flowing from the downspouts and dispersing on the lawn and hearing the gurgling noise of air and water working out their gravitational ballet. From my bedroom I can hear the wind occasionally lifting a loose piece of vinyl siding. I kid myself and think that one day I will go out and identify the offending piece and have it properly secured. Truth is, I like it. I had my landscaper trim the crepe myrtle bush outside my office because it was scraping against the window and threatening to lift the gutters off the west side of house with its unruly branches. I miss their song. It's like I removed the string section of the orchestra during the sonata or the sopranos from the cantata. I actually enjoy cleaning my house during a good rain. Not a
Musing of a mostly sane, perfectly saved and yet entirely flawed bible believing woman and biblical counselor.