It's Falling in Sheets and Sheets

It's 4pm and it's dark as night. I stand on the balcony, able to reach out and touch the sheet wall of rain. Instead, I stand and wonder how long it took me to notice the quickening of my heartbeat. It became evident, pulse-racingly evident, that I am alive. Fully alive.

A joy, a bliss, a pleasure sweeps me. Because You're standing here. And You, too, are very alive. You are as real and as tangible and as powerful as the breath-stealing thunder. Your love is here! I am here in Your love. Who am I to think that I could be skilled enough to escape Your love? Foolishness. It is falling right in front of my face, in sheets and sheets. I don't stretch out my hand to touch in pure reverence. I couldn't possible touch it, could I? Could I -- me? -- touch God's love? The electric pleasure in my pulse keeps me still. I am content, I am already overwhelmed!

It pours and rains and pours -- and it's for me. He is pouring out His love. He always has and does. I don't know why or how or for whom. I just know it's raining, and it's raining because He loves us. It's always because He loves.