I have a recurring dream. In it, I am sitting on the ground in the sun in a vast wasteland, a brown/tan desert, and I am looking at the dusty brown/tan walls of a city. Everything appears to be arid, scorched, dry, lifeless. But I can see through the gates of the city, which are open. Inside is a lush, green, rich garden, with pools and fountains. I know this to be the Holy City, Heaven, a goal for which we strive during our lives.
I awoke this morning thinking about that dream and also about a song, a variation of my favorite "Amazing Grace," called "Grace Like Rain" -- not a bit surprised, with all the rain we have had this season. However, I imagined grace falling on us like a downpour, a cloudburst, filling the dry and cracked creek beds of our lives with life-renewing strength and faith.
My point: A tad fuzzy this morning, I admit. I think it is that no matter how dry and hopeless and challenging our lives may be at times, all it takes is one wondrous rain to renew our souls, slake our thirst and restore our lives. -- -- jri
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I’m found
Was blind but now I see so clearly
Chorus:
Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away
