Don’t you love the sound of rain?
How would you like to wake up every morning to this:
We traveled to Nicaragua during the rainy season in the tropics, so lluvia, rain, falling from the sky was no surprise. We were nearly drenched when we boarded our 12-seater plane in Managua to make the jump over Lake Nicaragua to San Carlos. 
The rain poured down so hard with thunder and lightning, we sat in the humid, muggy plane for half an hour before we could depart.
Drips coming in the windows and through some of the ceiling rivets did not calm down our jittery nerves while we waited.
Certainly we had prayed for good weather before we left, but what we had not anticipated was two solid weeks of monsoon-like lluvia before our arrival.
Rio San Juan was higher than many in our party had ever seen it and Yaro, our host at Sabalos Lodge, was full of woe about what was to come.
The first night in our tree houses, the storm blew up around 3 am. My daughter felt rain on her face through her mosquito netting–she was near the non-window.
She fell asleep again as the droplets shifted with the wind, but before long the pounding sound of monsoon rain on the roof disturbed her sleep. But it went on so long, she lulled back into dreamland and awoke refreshed.
When we all woke, we gazed at a downpour and wondered why we had not brought our rain gear.
At breakfast, Yaro predicted a full day of pouring rain.
He did that every morning. Yet the sky belied him in the evenings–you know, red sky at night, sailor’s delight?
Wearing a rain fly
We often scurried to the boat dodging rain drops and hoping for the best. We spread waterproof ponchos across our laps on the boat and watched the sky as we headed to our destination.
And every day the skies cleared and the rain stopped, just about the time we arrived.
Every day.
We usually had a shower in the afternoon, true, but nothing we couldn’t manage and we always seemed to be inside when it got really wet.
Naturally. We prayed for good weather.
“You’re going to have to arrange to have all the people indoors today,” Yaro said. “It will be cramped, but we don’t want everyone to get soaked.”
There was room under the overhang at the school. A manageable damp, but no one dripped. By afternoon when we visited the junior high school, the day was glorious.
Again.
Yaro shook his head in surprise. Every day he expected rain to drown us out.
We got rain every day. Just at very convenient times for us.
Why would God hold back the rain to make our way smoother? What was his plan in all that?
Maybe so some people, I’m not naming any names here, could see that God answers prayer.
Because he does.
Thoughts? Reactions? Lurker?