Friday, September 25, 2015

Rainy Mornings and Broken Hearts

I am thankful for rainy mornings and broken hearts.

This morning as I walked to class in the pouring rain, I found myself on the verge of tears as I thought about our Tuesday night conversation. The words replaying over and over in my mind like a broken record. The same words that ended a season in our lives and shattered this porcelain heart of mine.

As the first tear slid down my cheek, I tried to be angry. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be angry at God for giving me what I had wanted and waited for for so long only to strip it away once I was already head-over-heels.

My heart hurts. Oh! How it hurts.

And the harder I tried to be mad at God, the more I became aware of the rain falling around me.  It was a pathetic fallacy, really.  It was as if nature was weeping with me.  Mourning for my broken heart.

I stepped in a deep puddle, soaking my flip-flopped feet and reminding me of something I had chosen to ignore this morning:

I love the rain.

Suddenly, a smile overtook the frown that had painted itself on my face as I purposely jumped in every puddle I saw. This earned me lots of strange glances from the students around me, but I didn’t care, because it also reminded me that despite the storm raging in my heart and in my life, I can still dance in the rain.

There was a deep puddle ahead and I ran straight for it, determined to make a splash. The cold water splattered onto my clothes and drowned my feet. It’s something he would never do with me. No matter how many times I begged, he would never jump in puddles with me, for he was too focused on the storm. The same way I have been focused on the storm since Tuesday night.

Yes, my heart is broken, and yes, it hurts worse than any pain I have ever experienced. The pain I feel is all I can think about all of the time. He is all I can think about. I constantly find myself asking God “Why?” Why would He allow me to fall headfirst only to strip it away? Why would he fill my cup only to pour it out?


I do not understand, and perhaps I never will. But if God was small enough to be understood, then He would not be big enough to be worshipped. For “[God’s] thoughts are not [my] thoughts, Nor are [my] ways [His] ways” (Isaiah 55:8).

As the rain continues to fall, I feel as if my world is falling apart, just like my heart. But maybe, just maybe, it is only falling into place…

I am thankful for rainy morning, because they remind me to dance in the rain.
And I am thankful for broken hearts, because they remind me that it is when I am broken that God’s grace is revealed.

It is here at my end where God begins.