Rainstorms and Gifts

Last weekend was a devastating one for many in China. Reports say that it was Beijing’s worst storm since the 1960s. Many have died.

The strange thing is that I was there. The six of us joined a tour group to do some sightseeing in the capital city before we had to say goodbye to our summer visitors and send them on their way. We were just finishing up our early afternoon tour of the Temple of Heaven when it started to rain. We scrambled back onto the tour bus before we got too wet and headed to the next place on the packed-tight schedule—a pearl “factory” (There are always shopping stops on these tours, keeping the costs down for us while the tour company gets a commission for bringing in eager customers.). While learning about oysters and staring googly-eyed at the gold, black, white and priced-way-beyond-the-limits-of-my-pocketbook pearls, the storm hit with force. Most groaned, but I reveled in the eerily darkened sky, refreshingly cool mist and strangely soothing sounds of thunder and heavy rains.

The rainfall lightened—a little—and our group made it to the bus, most not without wet shoes. Our last stop of the day was the Summer Palace, a summer retreat to emperors long ago. We took a vote and over half of the people on the tour opted to brave the downpour and visit the Summer Palace (much to the chagrin of our tour guide, who was forced by majority to wait for us in the rain with his pink flowery umbrella). Off we went. There were many selling umbrellas and ponchos, taking advantage of the sudden weather change. I found much amusement in confusing the hawkers at my refusal to make a purchase with the silly phrase, “I like being wet!” (I think they thought I was crazy….and they may have been right!). 

We had a blast!  We skipped and laughed and twirled and jumped in puddles (oh, I might have been the only one to do that!) and took silly pictures and got soaking wet. Something that had bound me earlier in the day broke loose….I felt so free, so alive….glorious!

Little did I know that in my unabashed freedom and joy, devastation was being wrought throughout the city. North China, in perpetual drought, desperately needs the rain, but the ground and drainage systems are not used to that much water. When it rains here, it is as the Sunday school song says, “…the rains came down and the floods came up….”

But to me, the rain felt like a gift—a personal gift from God just for me. I even apologized to my friends because God’s special gift for me had to ruin everyone else’s day. Now, knowing the floods that came with it, was it still a gift? It felt like one at the time….and still does in a strange way. That rain brought deep healing to my soul on that emotion-filled day. I am not sure how to reconcile God’s intimate gift to me with the simultaneous loss and grief experienced by so many others….  

 

The next morning was Sunday. I awoke early, made some instant coffee, sat in the window seat of our hotel room, and filled pages in my journal. It was beautiful outside—the white sunlight unfiltered by the usual smog, the azure blue sky, the puffy white clouds, a gentle breeze making the leaves on the seven-story tall tree dance and sparkle. And God spoke deeply to my heart: I am good. Trust Me. See and embrace My gifts to you.  My God. He is powerful. He delights in preparing these things for me. He is faithful. He is pursuing me, wooing me, in the way that I long for. Keep my eyes open, Lord, so I don’t miss it.

More gifts came that day, including a golden sunset that cast faraway mountains into silhouette, dinner on a rooftop, and lots of laughter. Sweet gifts, especially to my heart that hates saying goodbye.

*    *    *    *    *

A gift came for me with a rainstorm a couple of weeks ago, too. It was a Wednesday and I was feeling a bit frustrated with the lack of success of the play group I started. No one had shown up….again. I decided to leave the office early and run some errands on my way home. It started sprinkling as I packed up my things, but I thought I could beat it to the bus stop. Nope. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, the clouds had let loose and water poured out. Ugh! I did not plan for this. No umbrella. There were nearly-blue skies that morning when I left my house. Who could’ve known?

I stood in the lobby of building six with several others who, even though armed with umbrellas and ponchos, were choosing to wait out the heaviest part of the storm. The rain was coming down in sheets, muffling any would-be conversation, and we all stared out, mesmerized by the downpour. The rain lightened a bit, but showed no signs of stopping. It was dark for 11am. I asked the lady next to me if there was anywhere near that I could buy an umbrella. A shop about a ten minute walk away, was her answer. After taking a few minutes to decide, I stepped out into the rain, mentally gearing up to get wet.

But, little did I know what was being prepared for me by my loving, caring God Who Sees.

Not five steps from the building six lobby, I watched amazed as a man, frustrated with his “broken beyond repair” umbrella, tossed it to the ground! Throwing unwanted items, empty bottles and snack wrappers on the ground is a fairly common practice here and I am usually annoyed by it. Not today. I stared at his quickly retreating figure, making sure that he really wasn’t coming back for this “treasure”. Too special and well-timed to be coincidence, I believe this green and blue plaid, albeit quite broken, umbrella was in fact a delivery from heaven just for me. There was no handle and several of the metal bars on the underside were snapped and useless. It was a very strange shape and I had to raise my hand above my head just to hold onto it, but I thought it was perfect. Many stared at me as I made my way to the bus stop, but I didn’t care. I was dry and taking GREAT joy in this marvelous gift from Abba just for me.

 He is amazing, isn’t He??!!