The problems people have with rain.
The four squeaky wheels were evidence as being deprived of oil when my mother pushed me forward that rainy morning in January. The plastic covering gave me a distorted veiw of a cloudy and wet world on the outside. I would giggle as the drops pattered on the window of plastic and I vaguely remember trying to touch them with my fingers, being two years old and having no idea of what ''rain'' was, I kept looking at these big chunks of chubby rain with awe and wonder.
It wasnt long after, that, when I grew older, the world happily gave me the label they put on these big wet drops that fell gracefully from Gods cloudy sky, and that label was ''rain''. So, there you have it, rain was what I was given, and rain was all I saw. No longer can I look at rain with wonder anymore, I know that its ''rain'' and everytime I look all I see is ''rain'', Labels are needed but they can also take away our sense of wonder dont you think? Like a plant that is neglected somewhere in a dentists waiting room so too, is the fate of our wonder seeking hearts when we slap labels on objects or things.
Now as the years clocked in I was conditioned and programmed by the world to have a certain negative attitude towards the rain. Everyone just complained about it, blaming it for their upset, I know because I was one of them. it wasnt long before I jumped in on it also. it's late in the afternoon, I'm now 23 standing at an outside bus-shelter, watching the rain soak the ground, I was miserable, cold and wet, yet a reminder of that squeaky pram and plastic cover cleverly made its way into the depth of my thoughtful heart and mind, and just for the sheer fun of it I tried not to look at the label ( rain ) that it was given by society. A strange and wonderful thing happened to me, all of a sudden my dark and gloomy attitude started to melt as quick as a block of ice in the noon day sun of the sahara, all the descriptions of who it was or what it was, I had seen and expereinced could never be accurate, I suppose your just gonna have to try it for yourself and see what happens, for in order to experience the rose, one must truly smell the rose, and in order to expereince the creator one must truly experience the creator in all his glory before one can befriend him.
Not so long ago I read that St.Swithun an english bishop so loved the rain he asked to be buried in the spot it rains the most. How I jump with delight at the simple thought of another persons witness to the truly beautiful wonder that is the creator in the rain. I've never quite saw rain as the others veiwed it anymore, I'm now free and God has mended my broken wing, that broken wing being the programming and condtioning of the world, I can now fly and should my wing become broken again I'll know he'll always be there to fix it.
Stephen Mc Elligott 1/9/09 22:56pm