Ode to Rain

I've never liked thunder and lightning.  Rain?  Love it.  Nothing can lull me to sleep faster than the sound of raindrops hitting the window.  Back in my camping days, there was nothing cooler than the sound of rain hitting the canvas of a tent roof.  Outside, rainy and wet; inside, warm and dry.  Like Linus's blanket, it meant security.  Unless the tent leaked and the inside was wet too, then it just plain sucked.

Now, as a Pastor, rain means work.  Put the buckets out where the rectory leaks (this changes depending on what direction the wind is blowing).  Check the floor of the basement in the church.  Check the walls where plaster jobs done decades ago get moist and blister out.

As a kid, rain was cool.  No more.