We used to hate rain.

We woke up this morning to the plip plip plop plop of light rain hitting the windows. Since we’re on the the first floor of a condo complex, it doesn’t hit our roof, but the drainage pipe is right outside one of our living room windows. The water dumping from there onto the gravel and rocks makes it sound like it’s raining harder than it really is. Jordan woke up on the couch this morning. Amy in bed. He has trouble sleeping sometimes. He always has. Ever since he was a little boy. His mind races and races about this or that. Mostly work. Sometimes life, too. Only The West Wing on Netflix and a new place to sleep seems to help. When you don’t sleep well, the same place can be a prison if you stay too long.

We used to hate rain.

Once up, around 7:30, much earlier than normal (maybe it was the rain? or the sound of cats stealing ornaments off the tree again.) Jordan rolled off the couch. Cold. It’s a rare under-forty kind of day right now in normally warm, sunny Arizona. He opened the blinds to let what light existed in the morning darkness in, turned on the Christmas tree, lit a gingerbread-scented candle, and started making coffee. A latte for her. French press for him. Black. He’d gone to bed in a funk. Not mad. Certainly not with her. Just… in a funk. For some reason feeling unsettled. Unsatisfied. A little lost even, maybe. Can you relate? He couldn’t pin down exactly what it was. Just a lot of things. Swirling. Causing trouble within him. Then, the morning. And the rain. First, the morning. Since Jordan was little, whenever he wasn’t quite right at night, his mom always reminded him, “Things always look better with the morning.” And that’s true. But, for us, for the past two and half years, things have always looked better not just with morning… but with morning rain.

We hadn’t shaken the shackles of where we were and exchanged them for the freedom of where we wanted to be.

Not because our life was terrible. It wasn’t. We were blessed to be doing work that mattered. It was just our time to go and make room for someone whose passion for the classroom matched ours for the camera. This morning, though, when we woke up, we smiled and sprang out of bed. Currently, we’re bundled up on the couch, working from our laptops, listening to Josh Groban’s Christmas album, drinking warmth and feeling it in our hearts, too, because the rain doesn’t represent restriction anymore. It doesn’t make us feel tired or trapped. It reminds us that harvests can only be reaped through sowing.. and rain’s a part of that.

So, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, no matter how hard it’s pouring on your life or career, smile at the rain even if you don’t want to; because the rain always comes from God and it always grows something. Even when we don’t know what it is yet.