It’s been raining all morning.

Through the screen of my front door I hear the birds singing and the rain gurgling in the gutter.  I press my face against the mesh, smell the heavy scent of the earth, and hear raindrops frantically tip-toeing across the sidewalk. The branches of the maple bend towards the earth as the rain weighs heavily upon the leaves. The tall firs across the street play in the showers, curving their branches and bobbing in the cool breeze. The more distant trees are enveloped in a thin film of fog against the backdrop of the sky. The wind pushes the rain towards the east, and the droplets begin falling diagonally.  I hear the faint “ding ding ding” of church bells calling everyone to worship, but no one is outside to hear. The streets are empty of cars and people, yet this whole scene teems with greening-swaying-growing-chirping-expanding life.

Only one thing is missing. 

Me.

Leaning forward, the screen door sways outward, and I step out into the God-created world.


Image: http://www.photoeverywhere.co.uk index 

Author's bio: 

Kathryn Norregaard is known as “the loud girl who never stops talking”.  Thus, she is a Communications major at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago.  She loves playing the guitar, walking barefoot, biking, reading, photography, and climbing trees.  She is passionate about promoting social justice and informing others about the environmental root (pun intended) to many of these issues.

Kathryn is a member of Renewal's Student Leadership Team.