Day 33 = Seeing the rain as a blessing

I hate being out in rain unless: a) it's warm, b) I'm wearing something that is appropriate to get wet (namely a swimming costume), and c) there's no chance of me being hit by lightning. Usually, it's only really in Singapore that all three criteria can be met. Otherwise, I hate rain, and there are few things quite as disgusting (I think) of the feel of cold, wet sticky jeans clinging to your skin, which is the reason you'll very rarely see me on my bike on anything less than a clear, blue, sunny day.

I was intrigued however last week to learn that in many African cultures, rain is seen as a blessing, that, quite literally, God is pouring down his blessing on his children in the very real tangible form of heavy rain. (Google: "rain", "Africa", "blessing", "-Toto" and you'll see what I mean...). Many believe this to be true all the time. Even in England. Even in a country where it rains all the time and where that rain is cold and painful.

I will however struggle to ever find truth in that adage if I continue to live where I do. So you can imagine my annoyance and grievance when I had to marshall the Reading Half Marathon in the rain today. The icy cold - mixed with sharp hail - rain. The rain which gave me two chilblains and rather a lot of frostnip. The rain which I had to celebrate in order to inspire and cheer runners who were looking extremely dreary. The rain which destroyed my shoes, and meant that not just sopping wet, cold jeans were clinging to my body. That rain.

So what was I to do, to continue to happily endure this rain, and to spread my joy and enthusiasm with the thousands of runners who I individually cheered on, whilst my fellow volunteers were sheltering under large umbrellas and in the local pub? I know, turn my rain into a blessing by counting my blessings, and thanking God for each and every one of them. Including the rain. Especially the rain.

So I spent at least an hour in prayer today (aside from the time I was cheering runners on), thanking God for my blessings throughout my lifetime, naming them one by one, until I could smile. And spread that smile a mile. Or 13.

I didn't feel stupendous afterwards, and I was still rather grumpy when I got home, until I could get into a nice warm bath and snuggle up in my blanket. But I could genuinely smile.

And sitting here in my nice warm study, hearing the rain pounding and crashing outside (it sounds like a very cold heavy rain of tropical storm proportions out there), I am continuing to smile. And thank God. Least of all that I'm not out in the rain now. Amongst other things.