rooftops and rain.

Rain.

Glorious drops fall from the humid June sky. It is not cold. I do not want to go inside. I want to get soaked. Let's run.

Rooftops.

I want to climb one! Or maybe more than one. I want to sit on a rooftop in the rain. So we do.

And we talk. And we are honest with one another. Healing happens. I had no idea. Prayers and frustrations that have been pounding against my soul are finally reconciled. Finally [partly] understood. Forgiveness. These things take time. I had given up, but sometimes they just take time.

I am soaked to the bone, yet somehow it feels good. I am shivering as I suddenly realize that I am cold. My shirt is ruined with stains from moss and dirt and grass (and whatever else is found on a rooftop). Or is it ruined? Perhaps I just gained an adventure shirt. I breathe deeply, absorbing the scent of a parking lot after a rain. I feel happy.

Rooftops and rain. I am being healed.