Last Friday, Tropical Storm Don brought us rain, and some beautiful stormy skies. This has been a year when that’s rare. We have suffered from a lack of rain, often doubting whether it’ll ever rain again. At my house, even when the forecast says “slight chance of rain,” there’s always hope, but usually empty hope.
While the meteorologists try to explain, we’re left feeling parched.
Life is a lot like that for many of the people I sojourn with. They’re going through droughts where wellness has abandoned them, where the chance of a cure or getting better is a faint hope that never seems to be realized. They’re in a spot where even small victories are celebrated — like Friday’s rain was celebrated. Yes, in a sense it’s not enough — their momentary victory or the rain we had. But in another sense it is. It keeps us going, it rekindles a feeling of being alive.
I’m thankful today for small victories in a couple of friends’ lives in recent weeks, and for the day it rained at my house.
Photo Note: Three-exposure HDR processed in HDR Efex Pro with minimal finishing in Lightroom.
On our drive from Rockport over to the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge last week, we drove for miles and miles by this large farm. I saw the barn with the rusted roof on the way down, and as we were on the return trip, stopped to capture some photographs. Part of the attraction was the color, but I was also drawn by the age of the barn and the order of the rows of crops. It was a beautiful sight, and somehow soothing to the spirit.
by Jim Hughes
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