The house we live in has a beautiful backyard. Green blades of grass grow out of the earth filling most of the yard. Other plants line green perimeter. A brown fence encloses it, a shed houses some odds and ends. There is a patio where a picnic table made out of redwood sits, waiting for summer to come, knowing the warmth will bring family together to enjoy dinner from underneath the awning.
This winter the year has not brought the rain the area so desperately needs. There have been small rainstorms here and there bringing minimal rain. Not enough to quench the dry earth deep below the surface. Of course, taking what it can get, it soaks up as many droplets that come in hopes that time will bring more.
There is something I still find so calming about the rain. It tends to keep me closer to home, in comfy clothes, no makeup, hair in a messy bun high on top of my head. Slippers on my feet and a hoodie keep me warm as the heater roars through the house.
For a mama on the go so often, I welcome moments of quietness. If it’s not for one reason, it’s another. Whether it be an appointment, a therapy, making it out to finally grocery shop. In this season in life, my weeks are full. I miss out on quiet mornings at home with the girls. I miss out on sharing play dates with friends. It feels like I am constantly running on empty while pushing a little further for a little longer.
The rain makes me want to curl up on the couch with the girls and watch a movie together, eating popcorn and snuggling close. As it waters the earth, I can feel it watering my own soul that feels dry and desolate.
The rain brings growth from the ground as it brings growth from inside of me. Time with the ones who call me mama, the one who calls me wife. It causes stillness that otherwise wouldn’t have happened.
It falls loudly on top of the plastic awning outside of our living room. I love to sit on the couch, coffee in hand, wrapped up in my blanket with a child or three, watching it as it falls, and listening to the rhythm it creates as my heartbeat tries to beat along with it.
A rainstorm came through last weekend. I watched out the window as the drops fell to the ground. I was happy to have an entire day at home without a therapy coming or an appointment to run out to. Months ago I would have hated the thought of having nothing to do, like I was missing out on something great.
I realized as I sat there with my girls watching the rain water the earth preparing the ground for growth, that I needed some quiet time at home. I needed the time for my dry and weary soul to be watered, to begin to prepare the ground for growth.
The season has been wearing on me. Even more so as a lack of sleep has entered back into the scene and my already full schedule is being packed even more so with therapies for Bernadette. Therapies are a good thing, they are going to help her and are setting her up from an early age to be successful. They can seem overwhelming from time to time when they seem to dominate the schedule, leaving little room for fun or friends or quiet.
In the moments therapies and appointments seem to be taking over my life, I remind myself that life will not always be like it is today. Bernadette is getting older each and every day. Things may come and go, her needs may change, and one day she will be in school where certain things will be provided for her.
I was reminded though on this particular rainy day I was spending at home with my three girls, they are all growing up so quickly and I don’t want to forget that. I want to take rainy days with them snuggled close and enjoy them at the stage of life they are in that very moment. I want to let the rain force me to slow down and soak every single ounce of them in.
I have felt weary and dry for quite some time now. I know it takes a toll on everyone when I’m like that. I will keep pressing forward though as I have been, soaking up the quiet moments as time permits, but also taking them when I need them. Not being afraid of making room in my busy weeks for a breath of stillness.
Sure, life looks different with three small girls running around and our lives are anything but quiet. But I need that quiet, that stillness, the rain for my soul to prepare the ground for the growth.