Rainy Season

18 Aug

During rainy season in Addis, almost every morning is gray, drizzly, and cold.  The first light begins to come through the window at six a.m.  But, it is hard to face the shivers that confront once the covers are thrown back.  The steam from the shower provides the only warm sanctuary in the house because homes are not built with heat or air conditioning.  Sweaters and rain coats will insulate against the damp chill for most extremities except noses and fingers.

While standing in the compound, forcefully breathing into my cupped hands hooded over my nose, clamorous voices brought news of another kind of rain falling.  The arrival of a rainy season of the heart.  Shuddering under the burden of the foreboding chill of its premonition, I walked in the direction of the coming deluge.  The new bundle blanketed to the back of one of our kitchen workers was incongruent with the expression in her eyes, the drizzle accelerated to a steady sprinkle in my heart.  Babies are carried that way but she had no baby of her own.  There was urgency in her Amharic words before she stopped speaking to her coworker and glanced over her shoulder…then at me.

Reflexively, I peeled back the top of the blanket.  Deafening silence erupted while my eyes explored what my heart instinctively knew I was about to behold.  The sprinkle quickened to a steady rain as I beheld a four month old infant. 

You notice the eyes first…at least in the replay that keeps echoing in your mind.  Can a four month old baby have an intuition of how its life is about to change? Did he only know hunger or could he hear the approaching thunder?  As Amharic words slowly became English understanding, the clouds set in and the steady rain became a downpour.  Our kitchen worker had lost a friend last night… this little boy’s mama.  His three siblings were at home under the care of another friend…no daddy or grandma.

He was crying but there were no tears.  Maybe panic…or pleading…or perception.  The lightening flash before the storm.  The downpour became a deluge and the rainy season escaped onto my cheeks.  Could he also feel the cold, damp rainy season in his heart?  For me, I retreat to the steamy shower, the warmth of the only sanctuary for my soul in this earthly dwelling: the hope shared with hearts by our Heavenly Father.  For the baby boy, the rainy season has set in and the rain will fall for a while.  Only God knows how the Son will begin to shine…

2 Responses to “Rainy Season”

  1. onlybygrace3 August 18, 2012 at 3:05 pm #

    wow! Sounds like quite the day! Praying God’s peace, direction and favor on you.

  2. joleen sinn August 18, 2012 at 10:15 pm #

    Wow. A life I can’t imagine. My complaints are so trivial. May God bless this little one and those around him through you.

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