The Rain Came

Each weekend at VUU, you would sit in my arms and as ask me to tell you a story.  I know it doesn’t happen much anymore, but today, I publicly give you a story to celebrate 18 years of marriage.  Don’t worry, the interpretation will follow 🙂
Discouraged,
A King went to a private place
To silence the noise,
He was experiencing a drought
That brought a kingdom to its knees,
For days and weeks, nothing would sprout,
And the things that broke through
would wither away,
Decades of hard work would waste away,
As the kingdoms treasures began to wither away, IMG_0207
As the vibrant king slowly began to decay,
His crown too big for his head,
Once a perfect fit,
Now sat around his neck
Certainly headed for his waist,
What once crowned his head,
Would eventually adorn his hips,
As the praise from his heart,
Dissipated from his lips,
He bowed low,
With his head between his knees,
Crying out for rain,
The ground wet with his tears,
His shirt damp from his tarry,
His knees blistered from the weight of his temple,
His face smooth from the ground,
As though foundation had been gently applied,
His voice bore out the ground,
As he screamed for change,
His voice grew weary,
As his praise began to fade,
But his faith gave him the power,
And with determination,
He cried out
Until his screams were too low for human ears,
But his passionate plea brought forth his reality.
Rising from his knees,
He looked towards the heavens,
Reaching his hands up
As if to grasp what was his,
He walked away from his praying grounds,
Certain that death was waiting,
As the sun warmed his face,
A voice warmed his heart.
The melodious sounds of rain
Glimmered through the noise,
Creating silence through a quiet still voice.
Its tone customized to his mind,
Brought dew to his grounds,
And a smile to his face,
He captured each word,
Hydrating his fields,
Softening the ground,
He tilled his soil,
Collecting each word as droplets for his harvest,
Seeds were planted on each row,
As he gained confidence
That the dew was the sign of the coming rain,
A loud clap of laughter broke forth,
Sending a shower of rain into his life
That would bear much fruit,
Returning life to the kingdom,
Rehydrating the king,
Making him alive again.

 

Story Key:  Use this to interpret the story.
Your whisper is my Dew. Your Voice is my Rain. Your Laugh is my Storm.
The Kingdom is my mind.  My Voice was my Prayers. The Grounds my Brain.  The Noise were the Voices that Once Existed.

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Doing our Part

 

This evening, the youngest girlies were traipse artist, pushing the mattress to its limits. Their leaps amazed the crowd, as they fell mesmerized by their death-defying routines.
As girlie #5 catapulted towards the ceiling, a voice screamed, “are you jumping on the couch?” “No,” she said, knowing this was a partial truth. For it wasn’t the couch but the bed. She wouldn’t volunteer the information. Big sister #2 remarked, “Uh huh! Told you Y’all were going to get caught!”, as sister #4 quietly sat, not to admit involvement in the routine.   image
I said to mommy as the door closed, “should we take away the joys of jumping on the bed from the kids?” Knowing that all who were privileged to experience a mattress in the home had used its power to bring to life fantasy after fantasy.
Our mattress as children caught our final tumble in the Olympics as well as the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. It was the backdrop our attempts to fly like Superman and caught the Suplex and DDT before our dolls heard the three count of the referee and gave us the championship belt!
“No”, mommy replied. “We shouldn’t. But, we have to do our jobs! We’re parents and its part of the gig.”
I replied, “Your right! Besides, half of the fun of jumping is knowing that mom and dad said not too! The danger adds to the fun!” I finished.

“You’re right” mommy said, “we’re just adding to the fun.” This said, knowing that the fun of the jump always overruled the consequences. As we smiled, we knew the jumping would continue. Maybe not today, but surely tomorrow.

The mattress might be one of the greater imagination supporters ever!   Maybe we should teach mattress safety as opposed to restricting the leaps?

Until then, “Are you jumping on the bed again?  Don’t make me come up there!”