PRAYING IN THE RAIN

+

Tomorrow, Sunday, is our annual "Monkfest" picnic, when over 400 people come bringing picnic food for the food tent. There are games, face-painting and plenty of hot dogs and hamburgers. It's held outdoors, on a big lawn next to the gym. All the preparations are finished. Nothing much left to do until tomorrow morning when a whole lot of people will scurry around putting up signs and banners and things that have to wait until the last minute. 

This was the background for this (Saturday) morning's meditation period, when I sat down in church at 5:30, looking forward to 45 minutes of quiet prayer and reflection. Suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of a drenching rain beating on the trees in the garden. It began pounding insistently on the roof of the church as well, as if demanding that I stop reading my bible and pay attention to the tons of water that were cascading from the heavens.


I resisted for a minute or two, but then gave in, troubled by images of tomorrow's picnic being held in the pouring rain. What if nobody shows up? What if the field turns into a mud pit? What if the wind starts blowing rain into the food tent ruining the empanadas and turning the hamburger rolls into soggy lumps?

Over the years I've learned to ignore the weather forecast for Monkfest day, but this morning's rain really got me worrying about tomorrow. Finally I deliberately turned to the day's gospel reading, in which Jesus insists that the little children be allowed to come to him. My eyes soon fell on a footnote that said that Jesus was holding up children as an example of the Kingdom not because of their supposed innocence, but because of their simple, unquestioning trust in their parents. It is this simple, unquestioning trust in God that qualifies a person for the Kingdom.

As the rain continued to drum on the roof, I tried to put myself in the position of simple, unquestioning trust in the heavenly Father, and let Him worry about tomorrow's weather. Little by little I began handing over to divine providence the boggy field, the soggy hamburgers and the mushy empanadas.

"Lord," went my prayer, "if it rains tomorrow afternoon you've got a problem! I'll do what I can to help you, but it's your responsibility." That felt right.

I guess you could say that this was the attitude of a trusting child, right? In any case, it's sure a lot easier on my nerves!