We invited a couple over to our house last weekend. New to Nashville (from California), they were interested in our home group which won’t start for another few weeks. Having felt their pain during our relocation two years ago, we invited them over for a play date and a trip to the pool. Having children three years and six months old, they were anxious to have adult conversations with people other than their spouse. It went well until we went to leave to the pool. The radar showed that we had about 15 minutes until the heavens opened up, and it was right. So no pool. It was a small disappointment and it only added to the other metaphorical rain that has been falling in our lives.
My best friend had open heart surgery and a difficult recovery. A neighbor had open heart surgery in July. Both are essentially my age. My dad ends up in the hospital for two nights with a bad infection after a dermatology procedure. My best friend, home for a week from the hospital, has his dear dog Brownie pass away.
I’ll admit I’ve lived a blessed life with little exposure to pain and death. I was well into my 30s before anyone in my family passed away. My wedding to funeral ratio is incredible, and I’d have to lose almost everyone close to me for it to be “normal,” whatever that is.
The rain hasn’t helped my current life malaise either. These situations make me consider my own mortality, the shortness of life, the sweetness of ordinary moments, and the irony of youth being wasted on the young. In short, everything that most people go through as they age. My issue is that it has happened way more abruptly than I ever imagined.
I know the sun will come out again after the rain (like it did last weekend, but too late for the pool). John Denver will be playing Sunshine On My Shoulders. My wife and I will capture a firefly of delight in our marriage. God will throw the laugh of my child into the circle of life.
It’s just that I’m hating rain more than I usually do.
Categories: Deep Thoughts