Thoughts on a rainy night
The rain patta-patta-patta-pattas insistently on the shed roof. Tens of thousands of tiny drops explode in quick succession on a kamikaze mission. They batter at my brain, one pin-pointed ‘pat’ at a time, demanding my attention and soothing my scattered thoughts - an army of taps and pats pricking my mind and relieving its pressure. Patta-patta-patta-patta. The sound washes louder and softer. I want to sit here all night listening to the rain. It demands my attention, but only to calm me. It commands my concentration, but only to free me from my own darting and distracting thoughts. Attend to this. Here. Now. And let those other worries flow away. God’s hands hold them. God sends the rain, and allows me to listen. Listen. Tomorrow morning I will be under another roof. A school building, the meeting place for our church. Other demands engage my attention. A child pulling at my sleeve and climbing into my lap. A teenager’s whispered question. The cares and burdens of the...