Rain conquers dirt

 Today the wind stirred up the dirt in a construction site, the red clay that we call dirt down here in the south, and it created a cloud of dust that made the world around us almost impossible to see. We were on our way to physical therapy (I have a frozen shoulder from a really ugly seizure last fall that I didn’t care for properly) and suddenly the world around us was a blur. The cars around us were covered in fog. The buildings to the side were blurry and far away.
 The dirt was blocking the path.

 Then, the rain followed the wind and the dirt was conquered.

 It reminded me of this devotion I read a few days ago.


 ”(I have) seen a storm in early spring; and all was black, save where the lightening tore the cloud with thundering rent. The winds blew and the rains fell, as though heaven had opened its windows. What devastation there was! Not a spider’s web that was out of doors escaped the storm, which tore up even the strong-branched oak.
 But ere long the lightening had gone by, the thunder was spent and silent, the rain was over, the western wind came up with its sweet breath, the clouds were chased away, and the retreating storm threw a scarf of rainbows over her fair shoulders and resplendent neck, and looked back and smiled, and so withdrew and passed out of sight.
 But for weeks long the fields held up their hands full of ambrosial flowers, and all the summer through the grass was greener, the brooks were fuller, and the trees cast a more umbrageous shade, because the storm passed by - though all the rest of the earth had long ago forgotten the storm, its rainbows and its rain.”
 Theodore Parker

 You see what you choose to see.
 You see what you remember to see.

“In everything you were enriched in Him, in all speech and all knowledge,”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭NASB‬‬

 You choose to see the riches. 

 After multiple schedule changes over the last few days, and insurance not approving it yet, I am going to UAB for a MRI tomorrow. For there to be brain surgery on July 31st, there still needs to be a CAT scheduled within the next two weeks, but at least the MRI was squeezed in!  

 I will ask for your prayers.
 But mostly I will ask you to celebrate with me. I am extravagantly rich.

 Tomorrow is our 19th anniversary. We will have a nice 2.5 hour drive, a peaceful lunch, a few hours apart while I get my scan since COVID19 prevents anyone “extra” from even coming in to the hospital with me, then a joyful, celebratory drive home again.
 I am blessed.
 I am rich.
 I know the flowers will bloom after the storm, but even right now, in the middle of the rain, the dirt has settled and we can see the road again. So I rejoice.

 Be blessed my friends. Pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and choose what you see. Then rejoice because there is ALWAYS something good.