Rain has an interesting meaning for me. During one of my lowest times in my life, I spent several days away from a new job, new wife, new home, and new country and found myself binging for three days. It seemed I had everything good going for me and yet I would find myself back in my addiction. It didn’t matter where I went I would ruin my life. That one early morning, instead of getting more money out of my account, I left the place I survived. The wind blew just enough for me to get a whiff of myself and I reeked of three days of sweat, no hygiene was attempted and still wearing the same clothing I wore when I left my office that day.
As I walked headed home another woman called out to me and I chided her about bothering not only with me but couldn’t she see how messed up I was, as bad as I smelled. Then it started to rain. The rain was covering my crying as I walked. The police stopped beside me. I was wanted, reported missing, and I told them who I was and what I did. The one in the passenger seat shook his head and told me to just continue going, in the rain. They wanted nothing to do with me.
Then it was revealed my tears were being mixed with God’s tears. That was the reason for the rain just then. He was saddened by what occurred. He wasn’t angry I messed up the good life He had given me, because He knows all things. You cannot disappoint someone who has this ability but He allowed His tears to fall upon me to let me understand how He felt toward me. He was hurt because His son was in pain. I can only imagine the pain I put in His heart. That’s how much He loves each and every one of us.
When He can’t shower us with love which He chooses to do, He showers us in the tears of His of love.