~Reblogging from Facebook, August 20, 2013~
I will not be a hypocrite and must admit that there were times that I hated the rainy days.
I hate it when I’m on the road and the skies suddenly decide to do an ambush attack.
I hate it when I’m still inside the office and just 5-10 minutes before the end of office hours, gazillion giant raindrops would do their merry-making. Talk about perfect timing, huh? And oftentimes, I mull over the fact that I have to dip my feet in the cold, dirty water that has flooded the streets. I do mind the organisms lurking and swimming freely in the flood but I am left with no choice but to walk in it lest I will not be able to go home. Plus the traffic! Geeez!
But today, with this kind of weather, I had the chance to ponder. Not all day, the heavens were raging. There were these “quiet moments” wherein I appreciated the sound of raindrops. Each drop had its own tone, each had its own volume, its own intensity and dynamics…
Could it be….? I thought to myself…
Could it really be that this is heaven’s or nature’s way of worshipping God or exalting His name or making music for Him?…
Could it be that we do not recognize it as such because we, humans, speak a different language, and have polluted the home that was entrusted to us that’s why it cannot process and respond “rightly ” in the present time as it did a hundred or a thousand years ago?
All along we have blamed the storms and the rains, when we should have pointed our fingers towards us. Why these calamities? Why these floods? Why those lives lost?
We kept on questioning when all these time, we carry the answers right within us…
On the other hand, I admire the rain… It has always been consistent.
How I pray I could always worship like that, if that’s really one of the things it does—
Losing my mind, you say?