As a Midwesterner, I am well acquainted with rain. One day, an unexpected, thunderstorm let loose as I was driving home from Castleton Mall. I was trapped in the deluge, my wipers whipping wildly at the rampant raindrops. Every muscle in my body was taut as I strained to see through the torrent. As the traffic slowed, both to accommodate the tempest, and the rush hour traffic jam, my heart was revved and racing.
Next to me, my elementary age daughter, Beth, chattered cheerfully, oblivious to the hazardous conditions. Normally when I’m trying to concentrate on something, I find other people quite distracting. During the carpool era of motherhood, I had little respite from the jibber-jabber of children, especially when trapped in a car as a captive audience of one. Thus, it amazed me that I found Bethie’s bird-like chitter comforting, rather than irritating.
It was her precious voice that provided a thread of calm tethering me to the grace-filled presence of God, protecting me from all out panic. In the midst of the tumult of traffic and thunderstorm, I was enveloped in peace. I love the way that God uses children to bless us, raining down his love upon us, “out of the mouths of babes.”