"God is in the Rain"

This is my favorite quote from the movie "V for Vendetta". And while the author of this line may have had a very different interpretation of its meaning, I have come to understand this statement in a new light very recently.

The last post I wrote was really about shame shrouded in modesty. In it, I mentioned that those girls who dress immodestly are the often the ones who suffered a lot of shaming at some point, and I touched on the fact that shaming can be about a number of things--not just clothing.

Well, that very same night as my last blog post I faced one of my shameful demons. I can't/won't get into the details because it involves others. But I felt that burning shame the same as I did all throughout my youth. I felt guilt at my inability to act since I was home with my babies, trying to get them all to sleep. I felt myself sliding into the abyss called despair and I felt powerless to stop it.

My husband asked me what was going on. I tried to find that calm place inside myself as I explained it. But tears came to my eyes; and once I started crying, I couldn't stop. I was horribly embarrassed to tell him what was going on. I had been dumped by guys in the past for less; the pain of which came rushing back, compounding the feelings of shame.

In the five years my husband and I have been married, he's always been a prince. He's never judged me for circumstances beyond my control. He's always seen the best in me, even when I couldn't see it myself. But that didn't change the shame I felt--not in intensity, or extent. I wanted to crawl into a hole. But before I could, he wrapped me in his arms and told me he loved me. Those three little words changed so much.

In those three little words more meaning than I can adequately express began to chase away the darkness. Of course, the only one who can banish that darkness forever is me. I know this. I thought I had been doing a pretty good job of it up until the other night. But there were some things I hadn't let go of yet that I wasn't aware of. In truth, I think the universe decided to test my resolve to overcome my lifetime (up to this point) of shame. God sent me my husband--this I know beyond a shadow of a doubt. God sent me a saint to help me through this life; one who is patient, and kind. One who tries his best to be understanding and supportive, and is never judgmental of me. Someone who still loves me. 

You see, the other night it was raining. God was there. He sent me my husband, made him observant at that moment in time, and I felt their love. Never have I experienced anything so healing in all my life. 

“Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...It's about learning to dance in the rain.”--Vivian Greene

This isn't about life giving you lemons and all of that. It's about finding the strength to never give up. God is in the rain, because that's when we need him most. He's there, waiting to wash away the hurt and help us grow. With the help of his angels, people who touch our lives along the way, miracles happen. My husband is my angel. His love is my miracle.