It’s been a strange summer, a summer brimming with afternoon storms that rumble with thunder and send down deluges of rain. Quite often over the past two weeks, many of these summer storms have occurred during times when I have to drive to or from an appointment or other activity. I remember several years ago visiting Orlando, Florida with a friend and while she was attending her conference sessions, I was exploring the area near our hotel—on foot. At that time, I was unaware of the afternoon rains that came, poured out buckets of rain, and then left behind a hot steaminess in their wake. On one such afternoon, I’d headed off to a few small shops within walking distance of our hotel. I never got there. The skies opened up and a storm rolled in pretty suddenly, drenching me in a matter of moments and I opted to ride the rest of it out in a chain restaurant bar sipping on a pint of beer.
I’ve found myself likening our Western North Carolina location to Florida on many occasions, mainly because I don’t recall experiencing these daily afternoon storms when we first moved here. But, the sound of afternoon thunder rumbling through rattling our windows is becoming more familiar. And, as we have recently become a one-car family (our second Honda CR-V needs a new timing chain and a couple of other repairs that we cannot afford at the moment), my girls and I have taken to an increased number of afternoon drives, something we all tend to enjoy.
The other night, as we prepared to head out for a drive and to pick up their father from the church, the rains rolled in once again. Even so, my girls, who tend to prefer riding with the windows down, the air conditioning running, and their headphones playing favorite songs from favorite Spotify playlists, indicated they were content to head out. According to my 15 year old, it is just as enjoyable to stare out the window at the rain and listen to music while scenarioizing (also known as daydreaming).
And so, we headed off in the car.
The strange thing about these afternoon and evening storms is that you can see the dark clouds moving in despite the mountains. You can also see the sun lighting up mountain peaks in the distance where there is also blue sky and a few puffy white clouds. As everyone knows, when there is sun and rain, there is often the opportunity for rainbows and we have gotten pretty good at seeking them out and finding them, both at home from the driveway and in the car out on the road.
Such was the case the other evening as we drove over to the church. As we made our way through some heavy rain, there was ahead of us plenty of sunshine and blue skies butting up against the dark grayness overhead. And then, suddenly, before us, one of the widest splashes of rainbow I’d ever seen; both girls were also able to see it not too far off in the distance. It was both vivid and grand in size, though not at all an arc across the sky. Rather, it was more like someone took a paintbrush and placed a rainbow mural in our line of vision. Even after we picked up my husband and headed around a bit of a driving loop so the girls could get some extra time with music and daydreaming, the rainbow followed us along.
I love that our family can experience the joy we did that night from something as simple as a rainbow. In its simplicity and beauty there is, of course, a wonderful reminder that joy really is there even in the storms of our lives. Even when the dark clouds close in and the rains come, there remains in the distance a hint of light that pours forth a rainbow, a reminder, a promise. While my girls aren’t fans of the loud thunder that shakes the windows and brings Helene to mind, they are incredibly resilient and they are able to find the rainbows because they know enough to look for them.
Obviously, sometimes the storms are all dark clouds and gusting winds and even in the far distance there are no streaks of sunlight over the mountains. Even so, we have learned, we are continuing to learn, to remember the sun is still shining overhead despite our not being able to see it through the layers of dark storm clouds. We have learned, we are continuing to learn, to look for the rainbows when the rain lets up and the sun pierces through the thick gray darkness above.
I see this in our girls. I hear it in their words, like when my youngest tells me she loves sun showers. I see it in my oldest who can recognize the extremes in her thinking. I hear it from their counselors who point out the ways they continue to grow and become stronger and more resilient. Every day I get to discover new things about them that bring me joy and delight. I get to experience the ways they are growing into the amazing young women they were designed and created to be and I am grateful. I am grateful for who they are and that we get to do this adventure called life together. They are wonderful reminders to keep looking for the rainbows.