If Birds Can Sing

I lay there. In the darkness. Waiting for sleep to overtake my weary body. Late night conversation with a friend weighs heavy on heart and prayers. Begging for God to give peace.

Rain pouring as thunder shakes. Sleep comes but for a brief time. 

The patter of small feet before alarm awake. Unusual since he is so like me, his mother the night owl. 

The rain continues outside the windows as dawn pushes through clouds. And for a moment I think I hear it. No. Can't be. Not in the midst of rain. 

But wait. Did I hear it again? Surely not. The rain too heavy I think.

Yet it was. Now stronger with more strands. Yes. A beautiful melody from the trees amidst the rain.

And I'm reminded once again of this word that chose me for this year. Eucharisteo. To give thanks. So easily forgotten. Once again reminded to slow down and count each gift as grace. Because if the birds can sing through the rain how much more should I be able to do the same?