Cybercolumn by John Duncan: Rain must fall_101804

Posted: 10/15/04

CYBERCOLUMN:
Rain must fall

By John Duncan

I’m sitting here under the old oak tree, remembering drops of rain dripping on my head. Recently I stood under a tree while making a pastoral visit. The picturesque scene might well have been painted on a postcard.

Clouds looked down. Rain dripped. The orange sun like a ball of fire peeked behind the clouds and over the horizon as it set. The grass beneath my feet glowed green. Conversation ensued.

The poet Longfellow once spoke of rain: “Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; / Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; / Thy fate is the common fate of all, / Into each life some rain must fall,”

Grief ensued as part of the discussion. Grief grabs the gut, the heart, the emotions, and spins a tangled web in life. Henri Nouwen says, “We can only keep it together when we believe that God holds us together.”

I visited with Lance, standing in his yard as the rain dripped. I watched and listened as he shared with me how grief was spinning a web around his life. Lance drives a white truck. He lives in a house on open spaces. He proudly smiles because he has a new baby. His 26-year-old wife teaches school. She also has cancer for the third time—breast cancer, then spinal, now brain. We can only keep it together when we believe that God holds us together. Lance and his wife, Amy, aim to keep it together as God holds them together.

Rain dripped on my head while Lance shared his pain, grief, hopes and tears.

Grief makes friends, like the bond of friendship formed in the foxholes of war or crises of despair. My mind drifted back two years ago as I listened to Lance. My wife had cancer. After surgery, a double mastectomy, four rounds of chemotherapy poured like poison into her body and put her on the road to a long recovery. I sensed Lance’s grief, misery and agony. Grief takes no prisoners. Grief sends in swarms of uncertainty. Grief happens.

Before I left that day, I prayed with Lance. Rain dripped on my hand. Into each life some rain must fall.

I drove down the muddy road thinking of Lance, cancer, and Zoe. Just days earlier, a mother and father buried their 28-day-old baby. Born prematurely the parents named her Zoe Grace, “Zoe” for abundant life and “Grace” for God’s gracious hand that catches tears that push up from grief-stricken hearts to eyes so that eyes like waterfalls pour forth tears.

Zoe’s mother spoke at the funeral. Zoe survived for days on life-support equipment, a child kept alive by machines even when little Zoe had no inkling of life, not even the remotest brain wave. Zoe’s mother spoke of the family decision to let go of Zoe. She spoke with tears. Into each life some rain must fall.

At the funeral, the mother eloquently spoke: “I know today God understands. He had to let go of his Child (Son) like I had to let go of Zoe. He watched his Child die. But now Zoe is in heaven with God.”

As I drove out onto the main road, I pondered life in its mystery and grief. The poet Tennyson says, “I am a part of all that I have met.” Frederick Buchner says, “Grace is something you can never get but can only be given.” Jesus says, “Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in me” (John 14:6).

So now here I am under the old oak tree, remembering. God gives “zoe,” an abundance of life to those who embrace him. His grace like rain drips as a pain, happiness and grief, and forms us to him to make us whole. He stills the troubled heart. He sees all. He knows. He cares. He understands. Into each life some rain must fall.

As I think back to the dripping rain under the tree with Lance, I know. I know the dripping rain fell from the heart of God, God’s heart pushing up tears like rain that fell from his eyes to help us know that in grief we do not weep alone. God weeps with us. He sheds tears that drip a waterfall of compassion. When he does weep with us, we experience hope in the shadows, “zoe” in death and grace in all its parts.

Into each life God’s rain must fall.

John Duncan is pastor of Lakeside Baptist Church in Granbury, Texas, and the writer of numerous articles in various journals and magazines.