To Our Kids (And A Little Love Story)

Our youngest daredevil began 'swimming' (dogpaddling) without a lifejacket (for small stretches, with minimal assistance) this summer. As she floated on the top of the water by herself for the very first time, she jumped out of the pool, ran over to her dad and exclaimed, "I'm so proud of YOU, daddy!" repeating what she has heard so very often from her own daddy as if it were his accomplishment, not hers.

If only life could remain that way. All good, filled with accomplishments, proud moments, smiles, joy, and an absence of pain or disappointment. And this is how we often enter parenthood ... as we should, focused on the happy moments ahead for ourselves and our children. Wouldn't it be great if, as we left the hospital after giving birth, inside those 'to-go' bags they give new moms, you know the ones -- stocked with pampers, wipes, swabs, desitin, and ample bottles of formula, the nurses also gave us a bit of practical advice? What if the above quote was also tucked inside that vinyl bag? What if we were somehow better prepared for the sad, and yes, even the disappointing moments of parenthood, not just the joyful ones?

My sister-in-law got married this past weekend. It was a rain-drenched weekend in the Northeast. Her wedding was scheduled to be held in a picturesque, courtyard setting outdoors. She had been planning this Etsy-worthy affair for the past 12-plus months. There was no viable back up plan. As we packed our umbrellas (all 6 of them), along with our rain boots and raincoats (not to mention waterproof mascara and waterproof everything else), we prayed the clouds would part. The skies only seemed to grow darker, instead.

Many of us face dark skies right now. Depression, loneliness, isolation, cancer, terminal illnesses, job loss, divorce or marital conflict, children making choices we don't agree with, estranged family members, chronic pain, faith struggles, financial difficulties, circumstances we're living with that no-one in the community knows of, shame we bear daily, hidden from family and friends. The list is long. It's heavy. It runs deep and it spans wide. We all share part of that list. None of us is immune from pain. We all bear it in some way ... it's just that some of us are better at hiding it than others.

So ... what if we were better prepared for the pain? ... for those terrible moments in life? What if we had expected the rain on my sister-in-law's wedding day? What if we had planned for the rain instead of the sun?

Here's the beauty in the pain, in the not-so-good, in the unexpected. The rain, serendipitously, quite miraculously, ended just before the guests arrived around 4:00pm. The most glorious, unexpected, unanticipated, out-of-nowhere, stream of heavenly sun came shining down on the bride and groom and the courtyard of guests for a brief moment in time, and the rain simply stopped. We all stayed dry, hair and makeup stayed 'done', and all the details were executed. The 'plan' saw its 'purpose' on that Saturday in June for a deserving bride, who, ironically, is aptly named, Sunny. And then, almost on cue, after the vows and exchange of rings, as that same bride and groom walked majestically hand-in-hand back down the aisle, this time as husband and wife, arriving safely under cover and the wedding guests were (almost) all safely ushered inside, the downpour began (again). And it didn't let up the remainder of the weekend.

We can't explain the brief break in the downpour. Doppler weather (which was checked until fingers bled that day) showed no signs of weather clearing. The unexpected sunshine and its ironic timing coinciding precisely with the bride's ceremony could certainly be considered coincidental. Good fortune? For sure. Higher power? In my opinion, yes. I'm sure a weather buff could explain it away. Here's my explanation. The rain was a real spoiler. However, the absolute unexpected appearance of the warm, glorious sunshine making a guest appearance made the day extra glorious - precisely because we weren't expecting it. We thought we were going to get rained out. Sometimes the blessing is the healing after the pain. Only an Author bigger and greater than both the rain and the sun could have written this story so very perfectly.

And so it is with life. We get rain sprinkled with beautiful, vibrant sunshine, just when we need it most. But it's the rain that makes the sunshine so much sweeter.

Thanks, God, for the blessing of both the good and the not-so-good (even though we rarely thank you when we're going through it). The sun feels more glorious after the rain and we are all the more grateful for it after we've experienced the rain. Thank you for your perfect timing (it always is) and for weaving a love story so majestically that it would involve the clouds and the rain and the sun (you really do think of everything!).

Dear children, there will be rain. There will be really hard things you will face. There will be pain. There will be lots of it in your lifetime. But there will also be plenty of joy. There will be bright sunshine when you least expect it, but when you need it most. Yes, there will be sun. Let us be thankful for both.

And we will pray for sun on our children's wedding days. Bright, beautiful sun.

I'd love you to check out Willamena Picklepants and a Case of the No Good, Really Mean Words, available on Amazon.com and tell me what you and your kids think. We love to hear how Willamena is speaking to children (and adults). Thanks for sharing your stories with us ... it matters! YOU matter!