Let it Rain

I am a Portland girl, born and raised. As such I have experienced a lot of rain in my lifetime. Oddly enough, I love it. No matter where I am in the world, rain reminds me of home. When the clouds build up, the sky turns grey, and the temperature cools off, there is a freshness in the air, and I can tell a rainstorm is coming.

I don’t own an umbrella and never use them if I can help it. I don’t mind getting my head and clothes wet. In fact, one of my favorite things to do is go puddle jumping ☺. Even at 30 years of age, I am not too old to run through the rain!

The sound of rain is one of my most favorite sounds. It’s soothing and comforting and makes me want to curl up with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate. I love hearing the plink, plink, plink of rain on the roof, the pitter patter of drops splashing through the leaves of trees, the pounding of a downpour, an overflowing gutter.

Here in Uganda, storms arise and pass through quickly, sometimes lasting an hour or two, rarely longer than that. And then the sun breaks through. Rainy season has come once again, so I get to enjoy my rain nearly every day. Many mornings I wake up to rumbles of thunder and pounding raindrops. It never fails to bring a smile to my face.

When it is raining, I find myself singing songs like, “Lord, let your love rain down” and “Let your mercies fall from heaven, sweet mercies fall from heaven, new mercies for today, shower them down Lord as we pray.” Rain is a physical reminder for me of God’s care for the earth and its inhabitants. It nourishes, it causes growth, it is necessary for life. I picture rain as God’s goodness, love, and mercy flowing over me, washing me, bringing renewal and refreshment, helping me grow, giving me life.

All that being said, while living in Uganda, I have been confronted with a couple of other things that rain brings: mud and disorder. A couple of areas of Kampala routinely flood every time there is a hard rain (which, during the rainy season, means a couple of times a week). When it rains here, everything runs even later than usual. Events and programs get delayed or postponed (“disorganized” as they would say here). Students arrive late for school, employees delay to go to work. For Hope Alive! this means that our Saturday clubs and other programs end up beginning an hour or more past their normal starting time.

I never used to understand this and would become somewhat irritated by everyone’s lack of “time keeping”, until one day I went to visit a couple of our Hope Alive! students when it was showering outside. Most of our students live on Naguru hill, a place where all the walking paths and areas outside of homes consist of packed dirt. When it rains, these areas turn into a muddy, slippery mess. On my short visit, even though I navigated my way as carefully as I could, I nearly fell several times and my shoes became literally caked with mud. The realization finally struck: No wonder the students remain indoors until the rain has stopped before coming to church for Hope Alive! events. I would too, if I lived where they do.

Traveling anywhere in the city is tricky. Walking is the most common form of transportation, but mud, puddles, and the danger of being splashed by passing vehicles makes walking difficult. Those taking taxis (Kampala’s bus system) find themselves being charged higher fares on rainy days and having fewer taxis to choose from. The only other alternative is motorcycle (boda boda) travel, which is wet, muddy, and slick.

Thinking of all this has brought another realization to mind: Where and how I’ve grown up has given me the luxury to be able to enjoy rain. Having sidewalks to walk on, cars to ride in, and a solid roof over my head have allowed me to experience more of the positives than negatives of rain.

So now, mixed in with my enjoyment of rainstorms are thoughts of those whose struggles increase with them. As I smile in the mornings over the sound of rain, I take a moment pray for those whose houses may be flooding and for our students who brave the downpours to reach school on time. I am continually reminded that God’s mercies are new each day, His faithfulness is great, and I still invite the rain to pour over me.