Late Friday night. I stepped out into the darkness of the night into the first big drops of rain as they began to fall. Moments before, I had been sobbing in prayer inside my car, shaking my fist to Jesus as to why, begging for help, crying in heart ache, pleading. I was tired. I was homesick. My mind had been racing between too many thoughts in my head and too many emotions in my heart, all screaming for attention, all negative, all crowding out hope and joy. I was exhausted.
I looked up into the dark sky as the rain drops one by one touched my face. Grace was raining down from heaven, washing away my pain, washing away my grief, washing away the tarnish built up around my heart. I thought of a friend who had once wondered if she could touch heaven, touch God, when she danced in the rain. I wasn’t dancing, but I wondered too.
And then suddenly, my mind was blank, empty. The contrast to the moment before was startling, jolting. No thoughts. No emotions. Pure quiet. Stillness. Only me and the heavy, cold rain drops on my face. Peace. Deep peace. I sighed.
After a moment, I whispered in my mind, “Jesus? I want to…”
He whispered back, “Not yet.”
Tears began to roll slowly down my cheeks. I abided in the moment.
I whispered back a question, “Why not?”
He whispered his reply, “Not done.”
A deep, long sigh…
I felt an urge to ask another question, but didn’t. There was no need. I stood there in the silence of my mind, abiding in the peace, in the healing rain drops on my face as they re-baptized me, in the love of God for me.
As I laid down to go to sleep fifteen minutes later, I held onto that overwhelming feeling of peace. I searched my memory for the last time I felt that kind of deep peace. It’s been a long time. One last thought crossed my mind before I drifted off. “Not yet?” Does that mean a few weeks, or another 40 years? Knowing my Friend’s sense of humor, I know the answer, and that’s okay now. I do not know how I will make it, but He does. And that is all that really matters.