It May Come Out Today

After rain, comes the sunshine.  Dark days cannot last forever.

I want to believe that.  Every time the darkness has surrounded me, I have considered it a temporary thing.  Illness, sadness, fear–each has its ending.  There is light to be seen at their certain conclusion.

It was, I believe, the poet Henry Longfellow who said it most famously:  Into each life some rain must fall.  Not so famous, but every bit as important, is another line from the same poem which reminds us that behind the clouds is the sun still shining.

We laugh at the naivety of Annie the orphan as she sings the sun will come out tomorrow, but we are almost certain of the truth the words convey.

Almost.

I do meet folks who have no hope of seeing the sun again.  They have given up on the idea that behind their clouds is the light of day.  Staying too long in the dark can make us forget how brilliant the light actually is.  It may even cause us to doubt that there ever was such a thing as light.

I’m going to go with Annie and Hank on this one. 

Sometimes, we are surprised to find that the sun will come out today, even.

This was such a day.  The weather forecast called for rain.  Ninety percent chance of it. 

All day.

I sat this morning, in my easy chair and moped.  That’s right–moped.  I had intended to tend to my yard today.  In fact, I had neglected it for the last week and a half with this morning specifically in view.  Saturday–Saturday, I would mow and trim. 

Saturday arrived and it was raining, with no chance of a reprieve.  I would have to give up an evening next week, an evening for which I already had plans.

I moped. The rain outside was creating a storm inside. 

She didn’t appreciate it much.  And, she wasn’t going to have me under her feet all day feeling sorry for myself.

What she said was, “Let’s go get something to eat.  You may feel different after you do something.”

Oh well.  It was better than sitting there hungry and moping.  At least after we got done at the restaurant, I’d only be moping.  We went.

I sat at the table with the Lovely Lady and we talked.  We laughed.  We ate.  Biscuits and gravy.  Comfort food.  Eaten in good company.

When we walked out of the restaurant, I looked up.

“Hey!  I see blue sky over there!”

It was true.  The rain was still falling, but over in the west, a slash of blue cut through the rain clouds.  Perhaps it was a sign. 

We stopped to put gas in the car and I stepped out from under the canopy to look at the sky again.  The slash of blue was now a whole lake of brilliance, shoving the gray of the clouds apart. 

Sun_through_cloudsThe muddled gray skies were giving way to the brightness of the sunlight I had anticipated and desired.  And in just the same manner, I realized that my gray mood had disappeared, going where, I had no idea.  Good riddance, anyway!

I stood, just moments ago, in my back yard.  Smelling the fresh cut grass and seeing the neatly trimmed edges along the sidewalk, I smiled.

Today.

Sometimes, it will even come out today.

You might want to get your sun screen out.

 

 

 

 

 

So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.

(from The Hobbit ~ J.R.R. Tolkien ~ English writer/poet ~ 1892-1973)

 

He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

(Matthew 5:45 ~ NIV)

 

 

The Rainy Day

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~ American poet ~ 1807-1882)

 

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2015. All Rights Reserved.

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