When the Rain Falls and Hope Is Renewed

When the Rain Falls and Hope Is Renewed

Sherri Journeying Through

Today it is raining here in Oregon, the state where many believe it rains all the time. But you know what’s good about so much rain? Everything stays green. All year. Sometimes, I know, it can seem depressing (and it is for some). But not today. Today it’s raining and … it’s a beautiful day.

  • The birds are still singing. Nothing stops them. Even in the rain, they find something to sing about.
  • There are jillions of puddles to jump in. And that’s exactly what my grandkids would do. And love it. They even get Grammy to do it, too.
  • The leaves on the trees and bushes are always a bright, spring-green clean.
  • The air smells fresh (for those who can smell).
  • The flowers’ roots are always refreshed.

I remember a time when there was no rain. I lived in Northern California during the big drought. You could only water landscape once a week. You couldn’t wash your car. Residents were asked to cut back on laundry washing and shorten showers. Energy-saving faucets were stocked in hardware stores and signs saying, “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down,” were selling like hotcakes. Drought-tolerant landscape was in big demand. People were trying to conserve water everywhere they could. And in that conservation, things began to die. Lawns and shrubbery were replaced by often less colorful species, guaranteed to survive the heat with less water. Kids were disheartened when summer sprinkler fun ceased. Guys with an obsession for washing their trucks weekly were frustrated by the new policies set in place.

No rain meant saying no to many other things. River rafting. Skiing. The list could go on and on. We longed for the days when rain would come. We prayed for days for the rain to fall.

One day, the skies clouded over and there was a hint of hope. The hope turned to joy when the drops began to fall from the sky. People opened their front doors and walked out into the uncommon liquid sunshine and danced. The rain fell as a wet welcome to a thirsty and dry community.

This past winter seems to have hung around in many different ways:

  • The wet is becoming intolerable. But let’s face it — before long, the popular complaint will be that it’s intolerably hot.
  • Medications that once worked wonders aren’t so wonderful anymore.
  • Falls are more frequent and frustration is growing over what else will begin to increase with this debilitating disease — whatever it is.
  • Concentration levels are falling, speech is getting more difficult to understand, and memory is gone.

Do you not know? Have you not heard? It is raining, but a new day is coming. It may even, for some, feel like a drought-infested summer in their spirits, where they are longing for rain. Take heart — a day is coming when there will be no more pain. No more tears. No more sorrow. A new day, when we will run with new feet, hug with new arms, and smell the beautiful roses with brand new noses. A day is coming when these days of discontent will have been OK because we were never made for this world anyway.

We are taught to be content in all things, and for the most part, we should be. However, having a hint of discontentment can also be good if you believe there is something better, and the best is yet to be. I don’t want to get so settled here that I forget to remember there is something better coming. I don’t want to get so comfortable that I forget this earth is not my final resting place. I want to remember that at any moment, my Prince is going to ride in on a white horse and take me Home. My discontentment and sorrow will be that I didn’t share that hope when it was raining or was hopelessly dry in someone’s life. Because without that hope, there really isn’t anything more to this life than living and dying, and that hope then becomes hopelessness.

It’s raining here today, but in the past week, my hope has been restored in many ways, and the sunshine is burning bright and warm within me. God has not forgotten. He has not failed us.

We are not home yet. Thank God — we are not home yet.

***

Note: Parkinson’s News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Parkinson’s News Today or its parent company, BioNews Services, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Parkinson’s Disease. 

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Sherri was diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson's disease over fifteen years ago. She can be found working in her garden, going for walks, taking pictures, or reading books to her three favorite grandkids.

8 comments

  1. carol luke says:

    @Sherri Woodbridge, Well said! I appreciate your sharing the truths of that part. It is familiar and needs to be shared again & again. Hope that your spirit is encouraged by those very statements. Thank you. I am a caregiver for my husband and he is in Hospice at Home healthcare. Carol Luke

  2. Karen Bate says:

    Oh. Sherri, Thank you! I needed that. I read somewhere that PD people had a hard time regaining their spiritual practice after a while. I feel a little of that because it is hard for me to keep focused on the sermons now. Even my prayers are shortened and don’t feel sincere as they once did. I know God understands but I miss the intensity. I appreciate the way you weave encouraging spiritual thoughts throughout your writings.

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