I love the rain. People who know me well know this, though this hasn't always been the case. I left the country and came back changed in a lot of ways, some I still have yet to discover, but one of which was a newly acquired love of liquid-state precipitation. God wants to pour His glory over the earth like water covers the seas, and our team was given visions of the streets being flooded with water - symbolizing His glory. Everytime it rains, I think about this and I think about that place that I love and miss.

I'm not so great with a paint brush. As in, whatever I paint (which is not very much) rarely looks like something recognizeable. Like painting in the rain. I think this is beautiful, in some ways, because maybe that is a good way to describe us. Fallen man, confused by it all, ever wondering and some seeking, some not, some finding some truth, some finding some illusion. To one another, beyond the skin - I mean, deep down - we look like a painting that was painted in the rain. But the Father gets it. And at the end of the day, knowing there is one who gets it is beautiful. Even if what He gets is the painting He made, the one made in the rain.