After the storm

"Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." — James 1:17

The storm came through at four o'clock and took about twenty minutes and left the world different.

The sky went green the way the sky goes green in June when the air has been holding too much heat for too long and something has to give. The rain came hard and straight and loud on the tin roof of the barn and I stood on the porch and watched it hit the gravel drive like it meant something by it. Biscuit was behind me in the doorway, not afraid but not interested in getting closer.

It is over now. Saturday evening and the air is clean and ten degrees cooler and the garden is dark and wet and everything smells like earth and stone and the inside of a place that has just been opened. The creek is louder than it has been in weeks. One storm and the creek remembers what it is.

I am on the porch with my feet up and there is nothing I need to do tonight except sit here and watch the light go.

Lord, the light is going. Let it go.

Ruby keeps a collection of prayers at her kitchen table. You can find them here.