It was dry for a very long time. No rain. My carefully cultivated gardens were begging for water. I studied my AccuWeather and MyRadar apps hourly hoping for some hint of a sprinkle. It was frustrating because every passing rain cloud just missed the Cape or just nicked us, only providing a few drops that did nothing more than tease my poor impatiens, hostas and hydrangeas. Water restrictions meant that the lawn could only get a drink every other day. That was not enough. Wilting!!!

Then, in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning, without warning or even a hint on the radar, I awakened to the sound of rain pattering on the roof outside our bedroom window. I didn’t get my hopes up. But then, it poured for about 45 minutes! The intoxicating smell of rain reinvigorating the parched earth brought new life to me too. I wanted to join my flowers in singing the “Hallelujah Chorus!”

As autumn rudely elbows summer aside, there will soon be far too many days of fog, drizzle and rain on old Cape Cod. I will curse the darkness and beg for the sun to shine. I will carefully review my weather apps looking for any sign of hope. And then, once again, just when I can’t take another day of wet socks and screechy windshield wipers, the sun will break through the mist. Thank God!

As I write this, I cannot help but think that the coming and going of sun and rain are also a metaphor for life. One day, we have the “thrill of the victory;” the next day, the “agony of defeat.” And on some days, we get both at the same time. Once upon a time, I wrote a poem during some very dark days in my life, days when I was praying (begging?) for a little light:

Every day

begins in darkness.

“Deep darkness,”

in prophet speak.

But I pray:

“Sunshine follows rain.”

 

“No end-of-the-tunnel light,”

he complained.

It’s a mucky,

murky future.

Inversely, I think:

“Sunshine follows rain.”

 

“Harmony not agreement,”

she believed.

Differing voices,

blending together.

“Why not?” I wonder:

“Sunshine follows rain.”

 

In the wilderness

the dark night of my soul.

Is it pregnant with possibilities?

I don’t know.

But let it be so.

“Sunshine follows rain.”

 

“I‘m lost,”

my soul cried,

I’m done,

nowhere to go.

Yet, hope still lingers:

“Sunshine follows rain.”

 

Sometimes I ask,

“Why bother?”

Deep inside,

no exit, no light.

Then, a still small voice

whispers to my soul:

“Sunshine follows rain.”

The greatest gift the Eternal One gives to us is that every day is a new day. No matter how bad the day before, regardless of how dark it gets, the next day is always waiting to dawn. The old admonition to “live one day at a time” is good advice. Easy to say, but not so easy to do. As it was once said, “When you are up to your (expletive deleted) in alligators, you forget that you came to drain the swamp.” However, taking life as it comes is really the only option. Nobody can predict tomorrow or control even the next minute, maybe not even God! We may as well live in the present moment and, as long as we are holding court there, why not live with the hope that sunshine will forever and ever follow the rain?

John E. Holt, Cotuit, Massachusetts