Raining mercy

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as
the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath."

Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

Have you ever asked for mercy? So many people with facial pain have. I am one among them. Although I have received an immeasurable gift of mercy, I once again have to contend with pain.

When my pain begins I think about God's mercy and know that it will see me through once again. I also think about the barometric pressure and take a look at the sky. It hasn't deceive me yet. The clouds have formed, tightly interwoven, yet not a drop of rain is in sight. Pressure builds. Sometimes this condition continues for hours. Sometimes Heaven's rain relieves the build-up, but other times the clouds seem to agree to disagree. Then the blue sky begins to emerge, but no rain falls.

It's been a few years since I can remember so much rain. We're blessed with it this year. We've needed it so badly. Yet this year, the pressure is unkind. I have so many days in succession where I just cannot function. My wellness continues to follow the rain patterns. I long for fall, hoping for another measure of mercy.

It's so easy to compare the rain to tears. It's been done so many times that the subject is somewhat trite. Yet I think about sorrow and disappointment and how often they build into an internal pressure that results in tears. It's from my internal experiences that I can understand the effect of barometric pressure and the relief that rain often brings.

I'm learning to be content with my current state. I'm not happy about the pain, but it's a relief to know that on the bad days - even those that lately have stretched into weeks - I have few responsibilities and can first take care of myself. What makes it even better is that so many people who have received my help now offer me theirs. Mercy cannot be defined; it has to be received.