.:When the rain is blowing in your face and the whole world is on your case:.

I miss the rain in Thailand. It was the only time one ever felt chilly during the hot months of the summertime. The drops of rain would dance along the tin roof of our apartment, making music so organic and subtle. It cleansed the earth and the buildings of their layers that kept holding on to the days before. It was restorative. It was fresh and new.

In the Deep South where I am from, people would pray for rain all the time. Farmers' children went to my school and we knew plenty of people with farmland in our small town. The rain was essential to their crops, their livelihood. It brought them peace and prosperity, silencing inner turmoil that would arise during times of drought.

One of my favorite things about rain is how it changes things so dramatically when it is simply drops of water from the sky. It is so special to life for it is essential for our bodies and for everything that we do. It is also symbolic, and few things make me happier than to sit alone on my couch with a cup of hot tea, just listening to the rain, watching it fall from the sky, washing away the dirt and sadness, bringing new life to whatever it kisses.

Today, I am praying for rain.