Through a Glass Darkly for Feb. 22, 2012

Rain gives permission to break from chores

Heavy rains, like the one Saturday, can produce divergent feelings.

Waking to thunder draws from me a disgruntled grumble if I’d planned a great outdoor adventure.

But the sound is the kettle drums of celestial music on mornings when I have nothing outside that I have to do; or to be more accurate, want to do.

I don’t even mind the light show that periodically glows through my curtains. I like to sleep late on such mornings, and I encourage my early-rising wife to do the same.

Rain pounding the skylight, much like it did on the tin roof when I was a child, is hypnotically soothing.

Rainy days hand out hall passes from responsibilities, which seem to weigh on me more heavily as I grow older.

Even on weekends, errands demand to be run, and jobs shout for attention outside.

A heavy rain rhythmically repeats, “Not today.”

If thunder and lightning accompany the rain, they add emphasis to the message.

To anyone who reads this and starts to email me to say that there are inside jobs or work brought home from the office that also need to be done, I have a simple response: Keep that thought to yourself.

I’d rather think of a rainy day as God’s whisper that it’s OK to indulge a weary mind and body.

If the rain happens to be part of a cold front, it’s fine to venture onto the porch to carry in more firewood. It was stacked on sunny days for just this purpose.

Days of hard rain are days for leaving on my slippers, having an extra cup of coffee and an extra hug.

They are days to devote myself to a hobby or an inviting project into which I’ve longed to lose myself.

They are days for good books, plucked from the bedside table where they usually get only a few minutes of attention before I read myself to sleep.

Rainy days provide the time to give books the attention they deserve while lying on a couch with a throw draped over feet and knees or while kicked back in my favorite chair.

A reading companion isn’t essential, but can add to the ambience by occasionally quoting a well-written passage or paraphrasing a poignant paragraph.

Something to sip sitting within reach feels as warm on the hands as it does sliding down my throat.

Music is an option, but I prefer just the sound of the rain, thunder and the crackle of a fire if the day is cold enough.

Coals glowing in the fireplace add to the hypnotic effect, providing a place to stare while contemplating a worthy thought.

If the preceding days have been particularly hard and my eyes get heavy, I deem there’s nothing wrong with letting them close and lead me into surrender to a short nap.

It’s all part of the healing gift of a rainy day.

Advocate Florida Parishes bureau chief Bob Anderson welcomes comments by email to [e-mail].