I listened to it as I fell asleep last night. And each time I woke up, it was still coming down.
The gentle thud of each drop on the rooftop was music to my ears, lulling the little ones to sleep, helping my farmer hubby rest a bit more easily.
The girls had cried on the way home from town on Saturday when it started. They wanted it to be summer, they didn’t want it to rain.
“But we prayed for this rain!” I explained. “Daddy’s new field needed water.”
The customers in and out of the store complained about the wet and the cold and the mud.
“Oh, but we’re thankful for it,” I laughed.
Almost everyone has an opinion on the weather. Especially those whose livelihood it doesn’t affect.
Maybe the rain was so long in coming because someone else was praying for sunshine. But today, we’re counting each rain drop as a blessing. Because soon enough, we’ll be praying for the clouds to stay away until the harvest is through.