I expect Texas summers to be too hot and too dry. By the first day of June the temperatures reach the nineties/thirties and rain becomes the stuff dreams are made of. Then, before you know it, July usurps June and enforces unthinkable, non-returnable temperatures in the hundreds/forties. Even your dreams of rain are vaporized.
Grace is not a popular word these days, but I like it. In fact, I rather believe my life depends upon it. Rain is a kind of grace, the kind God bestows on all as evidence of his kindness and benevolence.
Today I am in Texas, it is June, and it is raining. Unexpected, restorative, life giving rain.
Free gifts often go unappreciated, but today I am grateful.