This seems to represent so much of my life right now, in my walk with Jesus, in my husband’s job, in pretty much every area there is a sense of drought.  Not the kind of drought that causes a famine, mind, the kind that just makes you feel tired, kinda restless and always looking to the horizon for that first glimpse of rain.  

I never ever thought I would miss the rain, but sometimes, on those precious Scottish summer days when the rain is falling down softly, I just want to stand there and let it fall on my upturned face.  Like somehow, it could penetrate my soul, like the waterfall of  Grace that falls from heaven, not intrusive, not painful, but refreshing, cool and life giving.   

The funny thing about writing this blog is that my expectation of anyone ever reading it is so low that I am sure I will be surprised that anyone would be interested.  Nonetheless, it is nice to sit and write cohesive (some may disagree) thoughts that are not punctuated with, “No, FJ you may NOT hit your brother for ruining your homework!”, or “I know R, you are always hungry.”  Don’t mistake me, being a mummy is the essence of my day, but there is a part of me that sometimes gets lost in all that laundry and sandwich making and homework and pirate ships, a part of me that is difficult to define but is fulfilled by thinking a little deeper than the usual day requires.

So, here it is, the inaugural post of Waiting for Rain.  I am looking forward to this journey, in some ways and in others am a little nervous of what, you, my reader will make of who I am, what I think and how I get from day to day.  But, for now, this is it and it could be a wild ride!