Rain

The other night I was sitting on my front porch smoking my pipe and reading a book on hermeneutics. I didn't choose that book on my own. I have to read it for what's called a J-term class. Basically, you take a whole semester's worth of work and pack it into one week in January (hence J) of 5 ten hour days. It's a little something that I like to call 'hell on earth.'

Anyway, back to my front porch. So I'm out there taking advantage of the first night in a while where I can sit outside in a t-shirt, long sleeve shirt, and jacket, and not be freezing. As I'm out there reading it starts to rain lightly--or at least that's what it sounded like. Our street is pretty dark at night, and there weren't any puddles yet for me to watch for raindrop splashes. So I couldn't see anything that would indicate rain, but my ears were telling me the rain was there. I started thinking to myself, "man, rain can be sneaky sometimes." Sometimes you don't see it coming, other times you don't see it even when it does come.

I thought about God, and how he can be sneaky sometimes, too. Ever look back on the past 3 or 4 months and been like, 'man, I totally didn't see that at the time'? Or maybe you're stuck in a place and there seems like there's no way out, and you really can't see God in anything? He's there. You may not be able to see him, but if you listen closely you'll hear him. God's just sneaky like that.