Ordinary Holy Good Things

I feel a rainbow coming. One with seven bright colors splashing beauty across the sky, surprising those who can see it, eyes all lit up and sparkly. A rainbow appears after it rains and the sunlight can pass through the droplets at just the right angle. Adults aim their smartphones toward the colorful arc, gasp and grin at the spectacle, at the spectrum of light after those pesky drops of rain flatten the hair, soak the freshly washed car. Little children, they might notice the pretty, try to guess the color scheme, go back to playing, innocent and free. They don't yet understand the soul need for rainbows.

A rainbow will come. I feel it deep down in these achy bones, this unshakable hope in goodness, in the part of me that knows God loves to help fix things. Like people's wayward hearts, minds, injustice and the occasional vote. The world is tilting, divided and chaotic, and I cling to hope like a child's favorite blanket, the kind with the super-soft satin edges. Hope is what keeps us going when the blanket has mud stains, it no longer provides that cozy warm comfort, turn to hope. Wash the blanket clean, take an elderly neighbor shopping, smile all day just because, pray, visit a sick friend, say thank you, pray again. Do ordinary glory things.

We went to a wedding recently and during the ceremony billowy gray clouds gathered in the sky, dusted our shoulders with damp drops from their bellies. It didn't last long and the celebration continued beautifully, joyfully. Later on us adults, we noticed the rainbow, mouths forming the O-shape of elated wonder, my daughter, she swiftly captured the gift.  Light spilled over the gathering like angel's breath, soft, graceful.

Rainbows. It's God's light steadily passing through the droplets of chaos, of confusion and hate, pain and suffering, it points the gaze upward and beyond the now, flooding the atmosphere with life-pumping hope. Embrace the gift and carry it around in the midst all the craziness, finger the soothing edges of grace, go out and do crazy good things.

And if a rainbow is delayed and the soul is parched, begging for light-filled droplets, gather up buckets of paint and a child or two. Tell them the secret of rainbows. Create your own canvas of pretty on the ceiling, and make pinkie-swears to never ever forget, that the light shines brighter when you do those ordinary, holy, good things, especially in the rain.