The rain came on us like a grandpa playing peek-a-boo with a toddler. Gray clouds settled in and scuttled low, thick with threat and promise, shadowed lighter then darker, then lighter again.
The falling began gentle and whispy at first. Just a hint that something was stirring, enough to feel dampness on your cheek or put a mist on your glasses.
Then, brief showers swept through, windbursts shaking the last stubborn leaves off the maple trees.
Finally, the full fury of the storm arrived. For a full day, wild downpours howled fierce around the house, whistling sad echoes through the fireplace.
In the midst of one wave of showers, the rain fell hard on the skylight glass. I turned off the tv, removed every distraction, and simply focused my listening on the relentless, driving rhythm of the drops. Big drops in dull steady beat with weight, small drops drumming around while tiny drops ping between. Somehow in that moment, you could hear every single drop. But there were far too many to count.
Every drop came from the kind hand of our heavenly Father. “He sends His rain on the evil and the good” (Matt. 5:45), “covers the heavens with clouds…prepares rain for the earth.” (Ps.147:8) It is a part of his providence, the constant, sovereign ordering of all things for His glory and our good. Rain waters the lawn and makes it green, nourishes flowers whose beauty makes me smile, or sinks deep into fields that grow food that feeds me and my family.
It is an overflow of His “abundant goodness” (Ps.143:7) — a goodness that is far more than mere raindrops.
Any overflow results from a gradual accumulation in small increments. So, an overflow of God’s abundant goodness comes from a gradual accumulation of His mercies. Incremental gifts of God’s kindness to me. Daily, hourly, even momentary beats of His heart towards me in and through His most perfect Gift, Jesus.
These mercies come in quiet whispers, and are often hidden or tucked into the folds of moments. They can be like a mist that kisses the cheek. Or like the drops that come in torrents.
Either way, like raindrops on the skylight, the mercies my Father gives are far too many to count.
So, a day for thanksgiving to express gratitude for the mercies, while wonderful, will simply never be enough. I want to remove distractions from my heart so I hear the rhythm of mercy’s raindrops falling all around me. I want to simply notice the moments when my heart is kissed by Mercy.
Why? I’m beginning to realize that the Mercy is where life is meant to be lived. Since it waters my soul-soil, these raindrops of Mercy are my life.
But even more, the more I notice and count along, the rhythm Mercy beats around me invites my heart to dance with the affection of the Almighty. Dancing in that rain brings joy, hope, peace, meaning, contentment…life.