Rainy Days...

It's raining. No, I'm not talking metaphorically about the current state of American politics, nor am I sounding an alarm about any upcoming disaster, either. It is literally raining outside. Wish it were an "April shower"--you know, the kind that brings "May flowers." It's more of a deluge, currently, but it's water, it's coming from the sky, and I'm guessing that eventually it will find its way into the soil where it will make stuff grow. The grass here at the church is surging, and our mower guy, who typically mows on Friday afternoons, will not be happy that it appears to be a soaking, all-day rain.

I like rainy days. I like driving in the rain, walking in the rain (with a decent umbrella, and with a certain incredible lady by my side), and even sitting at the ballpark waiting for a rain-delayed game to begin. As one of about six people who actually liked Three Rivers Stadium, I remember going to a night game with my family on a rainy evening, watching the "Zambonis" sucking the water up off the Tartan Turf, and shooting it over the center field fence. My Dad was amazed at this, as the game would have definitely been a rain out at old Forbes Field, but this game against the San Francisco Giants got played, and Willie McCovey blasted a grand slam into the upper deck to win it for the West-coasters. Why did I like Three Rivers Stadium? I was a kid, and didn't know any better. Actually, it was a combination of its gargantuan size, the huge scoreboard (which, like Apollo 11, was the latest in 60s technology), and the fact that, unlike Forbes Field, rats didn't run over your feet at night games. I also liked to look up at the "elite" eating and watching the game in the spacious Allegheny Club, and hoping I would get to do that someday. Thanks to Mark Cottrill, a St. Paul's member back in the mid-1990s, I did actually get to do that once. (He had a great job at the higher echelons of the Henry Hillman Company, and those people had both an Allegheny Club membership and one of those "lounge boxes" at Three Rivers, a primitive forerunner of today's luxury boxes at PNC Park.)

Does this blog have a point? Probably not, other than to say that I don't find rainy days at all depressing. If you are one who does, my prayers are with you today. Rain reminds us that God does care for the planet, nourishing its "greening" process in what appears to me to be a miraculous cycle. Rain reminds me of the sprinkling waters of Christian baptism (officially called aspersion). If we pastors can flick water from the font onto a congregation with the words, "Remember your baptism and be thankful," I suppose I can walk in the rain and tell myself that, too. As I write this, the hard, wind-driven rain is hitting the windows of my office, making me thankful I have a warm, dry place to work, study, and write. I am reminded by the pelting rain, though, to pray for those for whom "warm" and "dry" are not as readily available.

I do like driving in the rain, but not today. I brought the Miata in to Allison Park, as it had to go in for inspection, an oil change, and a set of new tires. I try never to drive it in the rain, as it's 29 years old now, and keeping it out of the elements has well preserved its carcass for these many years, but since it had to be inspected by the end of April, here we are. Its convertible top leaks like a sieve by the driver's side window, so I will have to drive it home while sitting on about ten towels, or I'll be "remembering my baptism" by the seat of my pants. That little sports car likes to be "daring" on the turns in a good rain, too, doing something we used to call "fishtailing" at an alarming rate. And driving in the rain means driving with the headlights on (a PA requirement since January of 2007, people! If your wipers are on, so should be your headlights!). Unfortunately, with the "pop-up" headlights on the 1990 Miata, it looks pretty "bug-eyed," and not cool at all. These are the two main reasons for driving a Miata--because it's fun to drive, and to look cool. And at highway speeds, the popped-up headlights whistle. Not cool at all.

In a dry car, and if I ever get unscheduled time (retirement, maybe?), I have a strong desire just to "head out," kind of like Peter Pan: "Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning." Thankfully, I am partnered with someone who likes to do stuff like that, too. Rainy days are good days to just go somewhere. I guess my personal Christian spirituality has always worked that way, as well. When the going gets tough, as they say, I like to go somewhere, as opposed to hunkering down and brooding. Unfortunately, my Myers-Briggs type indicator (ENFP), combined with a mild case of adult ADHD, means I don't necessarily have an agenda or a specified destination. My partner is quite happy that I am now compelled to take the back roads rather than the Interstates, and that, too, has some interesting spiritual meanings, I'm sure.

So, what about you on this fine, rainy day? Are you an upper or a downer on such precipitous occasions? Do you only like to "make hay while the sun shines," or do you say, "Hey, it's raining, let's go somewhere?" Even if you enjoy just sitting and watching the rain outside the window, here's hoping that only Mondays get you down, and not rainy days! As Amos 5 famously says, "Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream."

There will be plenty of justice and righteousness, then, on my drive home this evening. (Gotta' figure out how to get that leak fixed)...a big, damp shalom to yinz.