Thursday, April 14, 2011


[2 Nov 2007drenched in the middle of India]

 Strange how hard it rains now.

I stood in the downpour of the last remnants of rainy season desperate to find an auto rickshaw.  I pulled my purple dupata over my head and within a few minutes I was fully soaked, and it was dark.

Kids were running barefoot holding hands and a mom walked with her babe on her hip, saree hiked up around her knees.  An old man rode a bicycle, holding a piece of cardboard over his head and lightening flashed over us.

Rain is the great equalizer.  We were all wet.

So I sang a Patty Griffin song to myself as the auto driver strike caused the number of autos on the road to be basically none.  I wasn't sure if the rain was all of God's grief finally unleashed on the earth, or His blessing.  I guess even the tears of God would be a blessing to this thirsty planet.

'Strange how hard it rains now rows and rows of big dark clouds but I'm still hanging on underneath this shroud.


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