Fall is in the air. It has been dipping into the 50’s here in Colorado and I know that the cold wintry months are just around the bend.  The changing of the seasons once brought warm salutations of spring, or the anticipation of a bronzing summer glow. With the third quarter shift, it brought a brisk edge on the wind that beckoned us both to coil up on the couch with a book and blanket. It brought the hope of hot cocoa by the fire, evenings gliding through the city streets on cross-country skis, snow days and snow caves we made from packed trash can lids.

Now as the fall leaves turn and twirl to the ground, for me the change in the air simply represents the passage of time. It will be my second winter without them… 

I had another sleepless night, as the rain pummeled the pavement just outside my bedroom window. It has been raining the last two days which means the snow is coming. The house is now turning cold and damp after its short summer reprieve. I yielded to the whimpering Honeywell on the wall and bumped the temperature to 69º yesterday. Adding another layer to the lightweight bed linens is the next step in the cyclic progression. 

On my way to work, the rain didn’t renounce its fury over the little town of Erie. The wipers were fully cogged, the windows faintly fogged. As I neared the first underpass, I noticed a lone motorcyclist hiding out under the bridge, shielding himself from the storm. I continued on the steady crawl in my car, at a pace slightly faster than a hearty jog.

To my astonishment, less than one mile marker from that bridge, the rain suddenly stopped. The clouds dissipated and the sun peered from the sky and shimmered on the wet asphalt.  I expected a rainbow to streak across the eastern sky. As I looked in that direction toward the heavens above, the thought occurred to me: metaphorically, that motorcyclist could be me, hiding out from the storm, trying to protect myself from the thrashing downpour. Instead of courageously moving slowly through it, I could easily choose to seek cover and wait it out until the squall passes.

Little would I know, however, that less than one mile up the road, the sun is shining and the storm clouds have lifted. But there I would be, stuck under a bridge for hours perhaps. Waiting. Thinking it was my best and safest option. Watching others pass me by. My annoyance with the torrential rain that day immediately lifted with the same urgency as the cloud cover. I began to acknowledge God for the simple illustration. I actually thanked him for the storms of life that I happen to find myself in, because somehow I know that the sun will shine again. The stormy season won’t last forever… 

I know that the rain represents renewal and that the rain sustains life. Think for moment, what if it didn’t rain? We could never draw in deeply the fragrance of a light drizzle. We could never appreciate the warmth of the sunshine after a storm has passed. Flowers would not bloom, their heads would wilt, shrivel, and eventually die. The oceans, lakes, streams, rivers, and brooks would cease to exist as we know them today. Wildlife and creatures great and small would suffer. Farming would be transformed and our agricultural world would seemingly vanish.

Yes, we need the rain. By God’s design, a strong downpour now and again replenishes the earth and preserves life. 

When we set out on the road the day of our car crash, the sun was shining and the Wyoming wind was whipping in its usual way. The storm that we encountered on South Pass took us by surprise. I have often wondered why God allowed the unseasonable change in conditions that afternoon. I believe He controls the weather patterns and that He can calm the wind or call down the rain with just His voice. He can effortlessly bid the sun to shine or forbid the snow to fall.

Yet that day, the storm was indispensable… I wish I understood why. 

A season of change is coming. It’s in the air; I can sense it. Moving through the storms of life and searching for sunnier skies and brighter days is not a simple feat. It is much easier to seek shelter from the storm or to hide out under a concrete bridge. But I trust that the sunshine is waiting for me. Perhaps it is just up the road a little ways…