I wrote this a few June’s ago while living up North and never posted. Here we are in the thick of June in Texas, and it has been an unusually and wonderfully rainy month here where it rarely rains this time of year. I thought this post might be refreshing and a good time to add it.
The Month of June
It is the end of June. I sit on the porch out of the rain, coffee in hand, and without complaint. It’s been uncommonly wet for a while now. Or so they say. But every year we forget. And every year we are alarmed by the downpour. We curse at the rain that threatens our anticipated backyard barbecues, our showcase of form-fitting shorty shorts, the donning of sandals, and lost days that could be spent basking in the sand beside sparkling lake.
But this is June. Our rainy month. Lest we should forget. And a good thing at that.
For too many years, I have been spoiled and impractical. I have been a city slicker. And quite frankly, I have been out of touch. When I curse the rain, I am not living in harmony with nature. I have missed her rhythm- her flow. I have missed kinship with the soil from whence I came.
But this year, for the first time, I have planted a grand and purposeful garden. And I have never watched the weather so much. I’ve anticipated and welcomed the rain with all of my being. I have stood in place- my place- as a human being in the eco chain- deriving life from the elements: The soil (food!), the rain (crisp food!), the sunshine (organic, pure, healthy food!). Even the wind, too, makes hardy vegetables and weathers my skin. Do you have any idea how attractive that is- sun and wind-worn skin- with a dash of rain to moisturize? 🙂
I have an alternative irrigation source. If it does not rain, I can turn on my hose. I can partake of the city water designated for every family in our town, so I am not entirely desperate for rain. Still, rainy days save on our water bill.
Even though this little bit of gardening has opened my eyes to my place in nature, I am far from experiencing that fully. A scant one hundred years ago, my ancestors relied fully on the rain, and fed their families through it. There are underprivileged people in parts of the world today who have learned to harmonize with the elements in order to feed their families. In order to survive.
And I have to be honest. The idealistic and purest part of my soul envies them. Oh sure, life would be hard if we had to rely on nature so. But isn’t that the path God designed for us? (To Adam, He said, tend the garden, name the animals, drink from the spring). Wouldn’t we be fully alive? Our men would be men, and our women would be…enthralled!
But I guess we know better after all. We know better than God. We’ve designed motor cars after all. Mommy and Daddy have left the land (and the harmony of a family that works together, but separate) for the industrial revolution. We have altered our food taste and nutrition with chemicals. We have so much technology to keep us busy indoors that we rarely have to venture outdoors. And when we are outdoors, we have created machines to till the ground for us, so we never have to get our hands dirty- not really.
Yes, look how far, how fast, and how furious we have come! In our arrogance and our thirst for man-made knowledge and solutions, we have…well….we have….become….
…poisoned by our food, diseased, overweight, dummed down, unhappy, unfulfilled, our families are disintegrating, and we are so out of touch that we no longer know how to read the skies at night or understand changes in the wind. Rain has become the enemy- God, out of date. Is it any wonder the world finds itself in the pickle it is in today?
Hello month of June. Bring on the rain! Our scorching July and August will be glad of these investments you deposit.
And as for me, I sip the liquid of crushed beans and breathe deep the freshest scent on earth as she pours steady in wisdom from the sky. I rejoice with the earthworms on wet walkway, and dream of daring to leave it all behind, running away from this man-made mess and right into the arms of God in mountain wilderness or wild plains.