I had just finished my 7 hour shift working fast food. Knee aching, head aching, feet aching. Annoyed by the fact that my ride was late. Hungry. Cold.

Outside, the rain is falling steadily.

I clock out, limp outside, grumbling in my head that I’m too young for this kind of knee injury.

And it’s like I’ve stepped into a different world. A better world.

The rain isn’t just dripping listlessly from the sky. It’s floating, drenching, washing, kissing the earth, caressing my face. There’s magic thick in this place.

This must be how Lucy felt, walking through a wardrobe and finding herself in a wood under falling snow. Except that I’m in a dark parking lot, alone, with cars rushing past, and its rain that’s falling, not snow.

I stare up at the sky, hungry. Water catches on my lashes, and I swear it’s not just rain that touches my face. It’s a kiss, a promise.

Each tiny drop, free falling and becoming an ocean of grace.

Suddenly something has changed.

I’m not that girl, angry, tired, hurting. I’m not insignificant little Mary, tired of work and angry customers, tired of being hurt, tired of my world. I’m not the burger king employee in greasy shoes and ice-cream-splattered work uniform. I’m not standing in a ragged parking lot in an apathetic town in a broken world.

I am Someone’s love, clothed like a bride, swaying, dancing with the One who has chosen me.

I whirl around, dancing, feeling my hair spin, feeling the cold splash against my skin and watching, delighted, each drop sent from heaven.

My knee cracks, I almost fall, I spin again, sway because I’m tired and dizzy and off-balance. But it’s beautiful, this broken dance, a work of art.

How do I describe this- this laughter, this dance, this work of art, this play, this romance, this love I will never begin to fathom? It is an ocean and all I can describe are a few drops falling from the dark sky above.

And each falling rain drop is like a lion’s kiss.


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