The Good Thing About Rainy Days and Other Frustrations

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Subject: Week 15 – Rainy Day of the Spirit 

Fellow Strugglers and Warriors,

I spent the morning trying to fight off what I’ve been calling a “French depression” (so called because there is an element of elegance and sophistication in it that demands a French word of description such as malaise or ennui—now don’t I sound smart?).

I have been overwhelmed this week by too many things to do and not enough time, or perhaps, inspiration, to do them. Yet, I know my Provider supplies enough of everything I need—even time. So, after a few uninspiring pep-talks to myself, I decided to accept today as a rainy day of the spirit.

What I mean by this is that I have been like a child with big outdoor plans, staring morosely out the window as the rain washes away all my little girl dreams for the day. If the child will only accept that her outdoor plans will not happen, she can instead turn to indoor rainy-day pursuits like homemade cookies, hot chocolate, puzzles, and books.

This is the course I now choose. I could attempt to do the tasks that press in upon me, twisting my stomach in knots, but they shall still be here tomorrow when, perhaps, the weather of my heart will be more favorable for productivity in practical pursuits.

Instead, I am going to be like my friend, Scarlett O’Hara, famous for saying, “I won’t think about that now, I’ll think about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.”

(By the way, did you know Margaret Mitchell’s original title for Gone with the Wind was Tomorrow is Another Day and feisty Scarlett was first named Pansy O’Hara? Thank goodness for editors!)

This malaise (a vague sense of mental or moral ill-being—Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary) has me thinking about something I’ve observed as a mother and as a dance teacher.

It seems the learning process goes through certain stages and not all of them are pleasant.

Each time Emma, as a baby, went through a period of several days of extreme fussiness, I found I could expect her to soon acquire a new skill, such as sitting up, crawling, or walking, once the fussiness had run its course.

I have seen this in my dance students, too. I, in fact, warn them to expect it (though I avoid the term fussy).

There seems to be a level of saturation in learning new skills that tends to confuse and frustrate human beings, often making us want to give up. I tell my students that when I introduce new elements, steps, and principles of dance. I explain they may feel awkward at first, but they will soon begin to believe that learning to dance is a real possibility.

I also warn them that as I add more information, moving beyond introduction to actual teaching, they will reach a point where nothing makes sense, and they won’t even feel they can remember the few things grasped at the beginning. This is a sign, not that they were foolish to think they could ever learn to dance, but that they are now making the information their own. It is being processed and shaped into something that will become natural—like walking—without so much conscious effort.

So, I’m wondering, is this same process at work when we are learning new “skills” in our spiritual and emotional lives?

I feel an abundance of spiritual insight and information has been showered upon me in these last fifteen weeks. So much so, I was beginning to think I could learn the secret of always walking in faith, always enjoying that perfect peace which passes understanding.

But, from my rainy day huddle by the window, it looks like maybe these first weeks have only introduced me to these spiritual principles.

Maybe actual learning is only now beginning.

Maybe I just need to trust my Teacher knows how to train my mind and spirit to move in newer, better ways.

And maybe I should trust that somehow fruit is being produced in my life, even on my fussy days.

The thing is, there is always more to learn, always new material being introduced and struggled through and, hopefully, made our own. It’s a process that repeats again and again.

So why should I try to force myself into a different part of the process?

Why not just accept the rainy days like a good girl and enjoy a cozy nap or curl up with a good book?

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

Trusting in Him today and for all my tomorrows,

Rachel

INSPIRED BY A TRUE STORY

In late fall of 2001, Rachel Wilson, a ballroom dance teacher living in the small mountain community of Pine Lake, California, discovered her husband, Ben, in an extra-marital affair. Her initial response was much as might be expected—tears, anger, despair, thoughts of revenge and more. But, through a series of unlikely events she was led to an unexpected response – a 70-week journey of prayer with friends.

She wrote an email asking if anyone would commit to praying for her family for 70 weeks, not supposing many would agree to such a long endeavor. To her surprise, more than forty said yes.