On a Quiet Rainy Day

It's a rainy morning here in South Mississippi. 

Since the rain has cooled the weather temporarily, the central AC isn't running constantly and I find that a real relief.  Although I appreciate the benefits of air conditioning, I cannot tolerate the noise and the cold air blowing down on me from the ceiling vents.  Other folks get "cabin fever" in the winter; for me, it's the summertime because of the AC.  There are times, I admit, that I turn the thermostat up to 84 degrees, despite the discomfort, simply for the quiet.

I like quiet.  In fact, I need it quite desperately.  Rainy days can be a good time for quietude and reflection, to slow down and re-assess.

That was the plan this morning anyway--to spend the silent time fruitfully.  But as I sat here tapping contemplatively on the keys, the quiet and solitude were broken.  I heard emergency sirens, loud and not too far away.  Undoubtedly there must have been a crash again on the dangerous curve in the road that my little dead-end lane turns out of--it has been the scene of disaster many times and the site of death far more often that it should. 

So I prayed, as I always do whenever I hear sirens wailing anywhere,
"Please, God, bless those in need of assistance and be with those who go to give it."

When anything shatters our peace of mind, peace of heart, our first reaction is generally anger or frustration.  But, really, it should be a call to prayer.  That is a reaction that we can choose consciously, deliberately--a habit that we can create that brings us closer to the Creator of all things.  Prayer doesn't change God; it changes us.  Prayer opens our hearts to receive, and it makes us grateful.  

I am grateful this morning for the quiet.
I am grateful for the reminder to pray for others, unseen and unknown.
I am grateful for so very many things.

Life is good.