Grace like Rain

Raindrops are fallin’ on my head…

Da da da du-da du-da-da daaaa..

Da da du-da du-da daaaa…

                I woke up this morning to the pounding pitter-patter of raindrops on the tin roof, my window was open and I could feel the cool, clean air filling my lungs.  For a moment I thought that I was back in Portland, because so many mornings I would wake up to the same peaceful  canon and lie in bed and think, or read, and enjoy a steaming mug of hot chocolate or tea.  Mom would always come to wake me up with something soothing to drink to start the day.  The thunder from the dark clouds over the cross is booming now, but the rain is abating to a light pitter-patter pitter-patter.  The cars are driving through the puddles, splashing the water on wayfarers hurrying along under umbrellas. 

                Leah just walked into my room as I was staring out the window, we are getting ready to go to church about a fifteen minute walk away.  I am finally going to use my raincoat and my boots.  I have reveled in the beautiful sunny autumn weather until now, but I love the rain.  And like a true Portlander I can smell it coming, and the anticipation is wonderful.  This is actually the second time that it has rained since I have been here in Mostar.  The first time was several weeks ago and Shaked and I woke up and ran down the stairs and out into the  rain and danced until we were soaked, the water streaming down our faces, our wet hair flying as we twirled.  The clouds are grumbling again.

            A moment of contemplation, Portland, my first home I love you, you are dear to my heart.  All the people at home you are irreplaceable.  But Mostar is now my second home - a place for my UWC family.

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me

Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away