On rain and my godson and other mercies

Rain drops
Yesterday, in the silence of the house, I could hear the rain softly falling, dibble-dabbling on the ground. It was the soundtrack to my day. I had walked past the bedroom – and felt the absence of my boys. I walked to the bathroom, and saw a small pair of pyjamas on the nappy changing table, and I missed them both. I went down on my stairlift to the kitchen to get my pre-prepared breakfast, and there was oil on the floor, and I had to mop it up with kitchen roll, but my muscles were weak and I was losing strength, and I had to focus on getting my breakfast so that I would have something to eat. The kitchen was a mess, but I couldn’t do anything till my friend arrived later in the evening, and I thought, “I would be in serious trouble if Jon died”, and that was a lonely sort of thought.

Jon and the boy have gone away for the weekend because our godson is being dedicated on Sunday. I am staying at home while Jon represents us both. I seem to have reverted back to being a student, with nothing in my day and no structure, I am eating funny food at peculiar times, whilst lying on the sofa in pyjamas, watching TV on my own. I never watch TV on my own, but here I am, watching a 2003 re-run of ‘Homes under the Hammer’, and telling myself that I will go upstairs and rest properly or write properly just as soon as my important program has finished.

I tear myself away from the TV and feel an emptiness, and the sky is grey. The summer is over. I am not going to be at the Dedication.


The rain is continuing to fall, and it sounds gentle. I am looking through my wardrobe, and seeing all the summer dresses that I should be packing away for next year. The weather has been so lovely, for so long – all these years we have been complaining that we haven’t had a summer, but this year the sun actually came out for August and I was able to lie in the garden and enjoy its heat. I had a good summer, and I got to wear my pretty dresses. For once, I don’t begrudge the rain for its season.

I look through all of my autumn clothes, and they are all the same, the same clothes again, the same as last year and the year before. The thought whispers in my mind: I don’t want to do this again. Not for another year.

I want to buy a warm, colourful dress, something new for the autumn. I want something to be different.


The shadows are getting longer and I replay the voicemail again: my MP is coming to see me. I try not to get excited, but I can’t help it: this is my chance to change things, to be heard.

I have been home alone for a day, and I am leaning into the restfulness of it. The silence is no longer a taunt, but a companion.

I decide that I will wear a dress on Sunday. While Jon and the boy are at the front of church making their promises, I will be lying in bed, making those promises in an empty room. But I will be wearing a dress.

The rain continues to fall. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies are new every morning. I look outside of the window, and it all looks so green and clean, the start of a new season.

Over to you:

  • How are you feeling about the start of Autumn/Fall?
  • When do you need to remember that God’s mercies are ‘new every morning’?


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32 Responses to On rain and my godson and other mercies

  1. janine 25th September, 2013 at 4:26 pm #

    Great read! It is cooler here in West Texas now. Mornings I take my coffee out and sit and enjoy the shadows and sky. Thank God for the day and get about it. Take care of yourself and hubby.

    • Tanya 30th September, 2013 at 9:42 am #

      I’m glad it’s cooler for you now in Texas – sounds like it has been a stinking hot summer!

  2. sandra hughes 16th September, 2013 at 5:45 pm #

    Thank you for your writing Tanya..you often describe just how I am feeling. I also try to see this time as a time for being like a teenager, when I am stuck in bed all day, and eating at odd times, awake in the night; things I never did as a teenager. God has been telling me to “Be still” for years, and now I often don’t have a choice, and I am able to smile and laugh at myself and God. My life seems to have turned upside down, and inside out, but I have time now to appreciate more and to welcome each day, and knowing God’s presence in my life in a greater way. Even lying in bed, and listening to the sounds outside, and watching the sun come through the window seems very special. And being able to go outside and sit, whatever the weather, even under an umbrella is comforting. I am very fortunate that I also have days when I can get out, and meander slowly round a shop or two with my daughter. May you continue to write and share your days with others, and be Blessed by God x

    • Tanya 17th September, 2013 at 12:05 pm #

      Thank you so much, Sandra, it really helps to know that I am not the only one. I admire the fact that you are able to appreciate God’s presence and His gifts of creation. I happened to get out yesterday, and I was sitting under an umbrella, grinning from ear to ear, enjoying the rain. It is such a privilege to experience the weather, isn’t it? Thank you for hearing my story and sharing yours – I really appreciate it.

  3. Mark Allman 16th September, 2013 at 5:09 pm #

    I pray for you Tanya not always knowing what to pray for but I want you blessed by God. I like how you are honoring things by your actions when you can not with your presence. I admire that in your loneliness you do that which I am sure God finds loving. The promises you make are not to emptiness but to the God of the universe; maybe not heard aloud but certainly loudly spoken to Him. Great true character is reveled in the dark, during the lonely, when you’ve been knocked down, when the clouds are pushing in, and those rain drops relentlessly spatter against you. You may be lying down but you stand tall Tanya Marlow…. Prayer Warrior.

    • Rantimi 16th September, 2013 at 5:20 pm #

      You have brought tears to my eyes. Boy do I need to know character grows in dark, lonely places, ’cause it’s pretty dark and lonely where I am sitting at the moment.

      • Tanya 17th September, 2013 at 12:01 pm #

        Rantimi – I am sitting with you. Much love.

    • Tanya 17th September, 2013 at 12:01 pm #

      Mark – this made me cry. You have such a gift of words of encouragement and affirmation. Thanks for seeing me, and seeing the growth when all I can see is mud. Thank you.

      • Mark Allman 17th September, 2013 at 9:06 pm #

        It is you who encourages…. though you may be bruised, bloodied, and battered you stay in the ring… day after day. I admire that.

  4. Holly 15th September, 2013 at 1:41 am #

    I love that verse. Having an illness that robbed me of anything feeling new in the morning I find it comforting that God’s mercies are new every morning. Thanks for taking us through the rhythm of the ups and downs of your thoughts through the day. You will be a wonderful godmother. The child is so blessed to have you.

    • Tanya 15th September, 2013 at 8:45 am #

      Thank you so much for taking the time to comment. I know what you mean – I also think of 2 Cor 5 – though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day – the spiritual realities which are unseen. Thank you for living this out and encouraging me.

  5. Janice 14th September, 2013 at 11:07 pm #

    Tanya, we moved into our new house in the mountains and my kitchen window looks into a forest. Yesterday I was doing dishes (because the dishwasher doesn’t work – boo!) and feeling a good deal of self pity about the enormous pile of dishes that replenishes itself the SECOND I’m done washing them when the sun finally peaked over the hill out my window and the most beautiful sunlight snuck through the trees to land in my window. And I thought of the exact verse you quoted. New mercies every morning. Fresh, life-giving, weight-lifting mercies.

    This was beautiful and I’ll be thinking of you and your godson on Sunday!

    • Tanya 15th September, 2013 at 8:43 am #

      Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful mercy moment. And exciting to hear that you’ve finally moved!
      I pray that this new season is one of blessing for you all (and that your dishwasher gets fixed. Cos that is important, too.) xxx

  6. Jo Inglis 14th September, 2013 at 9:33 pm #

    I love this & Diana’s word reverie. The words weave in and out of the major/minor keys just like Chopin’s Raindrop prelude. And if you hadn’t added the words in italics I would have known they were there anyway.

    • Tanya 15th September, 2013 at 8:41 am #

      Oo Jo – the comparison to Chopin’s raindrop prelude and the major/minor key etc gave me chills. And then I read that last sentence and I felt surprisingly emotional – and understood, and loved. Thanks for getting me. 🙂


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