"Rainy Day People..."

"Rainy day people always seem to know
when it's time to call.
Rainy day people don't talk
they just listen till they've heard it all.
Rainy day lovers don't lie when they tell you
they've been down like you.
Rainy day people don't mind
if you're cryin' a tear or two…"

I woke up this morning to the sound of more rain.  I wanted to smile in my sleep, turn over and let it sing me back to the small village in Provence where the girls and I were harvesting armloads of fragrant lavender in my dreams, but alas it was a school day.  So I threw the covers off, blinked the fairy dust of neverland off my eyelashes, and shook myself free from the drowsy heat of a summer's day in the south of France before padding into the girls room to wrestle them out of bed.

The song I hummed as I walked through the butler's pantry (yes, this old house has one...a room for butlers with glass-fronted built-in cupboards for holding dishes, cabinets for linens, and drawers for "the silver, mum") was Gordon Lightfoot's "Rainy Day People." Its music fit my mood.  Its lyrics fit my heart.  I love rain…but, more importantly, I want to be a "Rainy Day People" kind of person. 

I'm not sure if it's that I'm really so intuitive about knowing "when it's time to call" a friend in need, or that I just call my friends alot and catch them in all of their need occasionally. Either way, I long to be a better listener.  I want to be the kind of friend who isn't always waiting for an opening in the conversation so that I can interject my own inspired thought or similar story...like a second grader with her hand raised, jumping up and down in her seat waiting for the teacher to call on her.  I want to "listen till I've heard it all"…until I've heard everything a friend has to say.  Until they are so spent from the telling that there is a real space of silence. 

I've been thinking a lot about the people who have had the greatest impact on my life -- especially the ones who have been there when I was hurting or feeling most alone in the world.  And there are some things that they all have in common.   

One is their ability to make me laugh at myself and the things that aren't really important--other people's opinions, the size of one's house/bank account/car, my past mistakes--without judgment. They seem to trust that between God's presence in my life and my longing to be right with Him, it will all work out. 

The other is a genuine interest in my motives, my hopes, my dreams, my aspirations.  For them my heart is good and the seeds of desire I cherish are precious...sometimes more precious to them than they even are to me.  They remind me that those desires are of God and therefore are a divine gift, not just for me and mine, but for everyone in the extended community of faith and hope I live--and love--in.  When I am just about ready to dismiss my long-held dreams as "ridiculous," they are there to remind me that God gave me those hopes for nurturing and cherishing.  That because, as Mary Baker Eddy says, "Desire is prayer" and "Prayer is God's gracious means for accomplishing whatever has been successfully done for the Christianization and health of mankind," then by mathematical reasoning "Prayer…is God's gracious means" for accomplishing his mission in me.  They encourage me to trust Him as the only Creator of any good desire as much as I trust Him with my children each morning when they leave for school.

I want to be like these friends. 

The other thing that strikes me as true about each of these "Rainy Day People" is that they don't live a life of reciprocity, but of generosity. 

I am reminded of Jesus' example following the Last Supper when he washes the disciples feet.  He doesn't wash their feet, and then tell them that they should now wash his feet in return, but he recommends that they "pay it forward."  He says, "If I then your Lord, and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you."  He doesn't ask for "pay backs"…but for "pay it forwards."  He doesn't get up and say "my turn"…but turns them towards another.

I want to be a "Rainy Day People" person.  I want to be like my friends.

"Rainy day lovers don't hide love inside,
they just pass it on."

loving the rain...and the "Rainy day People," 
Kate