The Rain, the Porch, and the Voice of God
"…Pour out your heart before Him…"
It comes on me from time to time.
The endless restlessness.
The drumming in my head.
The hunger in my heart.
The longing for the other side.
But unlike so many other nights,
tonight, I will not numb the pain.
I open the front door and turn the porch lights off.
I sit in my children’s rocking chair
and listen to the pounding rain.
Knees up to my chest, I wait for the rain to come.
The sky is already trembling above,
and heaven’s cameras flash.
I close my eyes.
The negative burns white on the inside.
The water comes.
God cries, and my world floods.
The ground drinks greedily on.
I wonder when I will get a drink.
An hour passes.
Or was it seconds?
I feel my chest rise and fall.
I hear my heart beat in my ears.
I smell the rain.
"Lift Their Burdens."
Who said that?
Was that me?|
Was it my dinner?
"Who said THAT!?!?!?!"
Only the distant thunder answers.
I close my eyes and search for the voice once more.
But all I see is the negative.
An echo of eternity ringing in my brain, and
those three words still imprinted on my mind.
"LIFT THEIR BURDENS."
I stand up and stare out on the wet grass,
the shining concrete, the cleansed canvas.
And suddenly, my eyes are clear.
For the moment, the longing is satiated.
I have a mission.
Three words to live by.
Til the next time.
Until the next storm lays siege on my soul.
And when it does,
I’ll return to my undersized rocker
and once more wait
on the porch, the rain, and the voice of God.