Run Through the Rain

She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful, brown haired,
freckled-faced image of innocence. Her mom looked like someone
from the Walton’s or a moment captured by Norman Rockwell. Not
that she was old-fashioned. Her brown hair was ear length with
enough curl to appear natural. She had on a pair of tan shorts
and light blue knit shirt. Her sneakers were white with a blue
trim. She looked like a mom.

It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the
tops of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has
no time to flow down the spout. Drains in the nearby parking lot
were filled to capacity and some were blocked so that huge
puddles laked around parked cars. We all stood there under the
awning and just inside the door of the Walmart. We waited, some
patiently, others aggravated because nature messed up their
hurried day.

I am always mesmerized by rain fall. I get lost in the sound and
sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the
world.

Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come
pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day. Her
voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all
caught in.

“Mom, let’s run through the rain,” she said.
“What?” Mom asked.
“Let’s run through the rain!” she repeated.
“No, honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit,” Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated her
statement.
“Mom. Let’s run through the rain.”
“We’ll get soaked if we do,” Mom said.
“No we won’t, Mom. That’s not what you said this morning,” the
young girl said as she tugged at her Mom’s arm.
“This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and
not get wet?”
“Don’t you remember? When you were talking to daddy about his
cancer, you said, “If God can get us through this, He can get us
through anything!”

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear, you couldn’t hear
anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or
left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a
moment about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some
might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of
affirmation in a young child’s life. A time when innocent trust
can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

“Honey, you are absolutely right. Let’s run through the rain. If
God lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,” Mom
said.

Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing
as they darted past the cars and yes through the puddles. They
held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got
soaked. But they were followed by a few believers who screamed
and laughed like children all the way to their cars.

Perhaps inspired by their faith and trust. I want to believe
that somewhere down the road in life, mom will find herself
reflecting back on moments they spent together, captured like
pictures in the scrapbook of her cherished memories.

Maybe when she watches proudly as her daughter graduates. Or as
her daddy walks her down the aisle on her wedding day. She will
laugh again. Her heart will beat a little faster. Her smile will
tell the world they love each other.

But only two people will share that precious moment when they
ran through the rain believing that God would get them through.
And, yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.