into each life some Rain must fall
Posted on 20 June 2012
It all started on a very rainy and surprisingly cold June morning. While driving to work I saw through the windshield wipers something shivering off to the side of the road. It lifted its little white-and-gray head off the white line and looked feebly at me.
I can handle most of life’s tragedies without batting an eye. But when I see an animal in distress my heart rate rips into overdrive and I start to hyperventilate. I quickly turned the car around to see if I had seen what I thought I saw. After confirming a little kitten was indeed lying injured in the road, I made one last U-turn to evaluate where to stop the car, and quickly punched on the hazards.
The rain was really coming down so I said a quick prayer for safety, and a quick thanks for my procrastination in dropping off a winter coat, which had been in my trunk for months, to a shelter and ran to scoop up the injured animal. All I could see was that it looked like a shivering drenched rat and that its back legs had been hit, bitten, run over, or all of the above.
I drove to the nearest animal hospital with the bundle in my arms, praying that it would remain alive. The vet immediately admitted the little kitten and went to work. Later that day I found out it was a girl, between five and six weeks old, brought her home, and called her Rain.
Our first week started off rough; there were plenty of hisses and growls that first night. She was in pain and scared. One week later she is warm, healing and playful. She purrs incessantly and even gives me tiny kisses. She gets her paws all tangled up in my hair while she gazes up at me.
I think Rain will never regain full use of her one leg. But she is able to play, use the litter box, and get around to some extent. One of my Facebook friends said that it was good she didn’t have full use of her legs because otherwise she would have run away and probably died at a young age trying to survive the hazards of living outside.
Whenever I think of someone or some animal that is crippled I think of the story of Mephibosheth in the book of 2 Samuel. Injured as a child, his shameful disability later brought him into the care of King David where he found favor and love.
Rain has become a part of my royal family. What are we holding on to as a perceived or manifested “disability” that makes us feel less than worthy of living as royalty? Love is the greatest force in the universe and if we acknowledge our worthiness and willingly accept it, the rain that comes our way can cleanse us from our painful and dirty past.