Sunglasses in the rain

A rainstorm is the last place one thinks about seeing illumination, but the impossibility of this idea was disproven to me the other day.

I was driving on the interstate, Murfreesboro-bound, after a long day at work, when I ran into a torrential downpour. Insistent to reach my destination, I pushed on, though at a much slower rate than the 70 mph speed limit.

The further I drove through the storm, the more the clouds began to change. Little by little, they lightened from a blackish-grey to a lighter and lighter gray. Eventually I could see beams of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

But the rain never ceased. It became lighter at points, but not once was I able to turn my windshield wipers off. In spite of this, I soon found myself reaching for my sunglasses. What a silly notion, wearing sunglasses in the rain!

And yet the brilliance of the light reflecting against the rain made those shades so necessary to drive safely.

Isn't this like life sometimes? We complain about going through storms and torrential downpours unaware that the potential for brilliance at the end of it all is magnified by that rain that we so often curse. After all, how do you think rainbows are formed?

I think next time I'm going through a storm, I'm not going to curse the rain. I'm going to wonder how God is going to use it to completely light up my life.