It’s raining just a bit – thank you – in that good way that isn’t too much at once but gives the land some time to take it all in. There’s the hint of a rainbow in the corner of my piece of sky, and I am grateful for the reminder of your promise never to completely flood the earth again. It makes me hope that things just won’t ever be bad enough for you to want to do it, though that probably has already been true again and again, and so thank you for being so amazing.
This feels weird to say, but in one way, I feel like there is so much dry, cracked, parched, desolate, droughted emptiness within me lately that I could use a flood to soak it, fill it, even drown it. I feel so dry. I feel so different from who I want to be.
It’s like I want to cry – about how I feel, about how I see myself these days, about the state of the world that you won’t flood even if you want to, and I can’t even do that.
When will it rain again? When will life feel less dry?