My twenties served as the decade that taught me about ME. It taught me the things I loved, the things I hated, the things I needed, and the ones that I simply wanted to have. It led me to therapy which revealed to me my triggers from unkept wounds and scars unintentionally carried over from past relationships and experiences. It made me more aware of what simply makes me happy and helped me identify the things that brought me unexpected sadness.

The rain was one of them.

Granted, my early childhood memories of rain included crawling in my parents’ bed, sitting in a candle lit house, and one year, we spent it planning my mother’s 50th birthday party. Yes, you heard it correctly. One year during a rainstorm and a sudden loss of power, we somehow managed to separate from the parents into the small kitchen, and with the natural lighting from the screen door, planned my mother’s 50th birthday party. She was very surprised, if you are curious as to how it turned out.

As I reached my late twenties, I began to feel the weight of adulthood. Bills, jobs, unexpected loss and it was all…heavy. I had remained strong even during the toughest times, but there were moments that I felt that even the littlest thing would make me burst. It was my first time learning about depression and anxiety – a medical term that was used to help me make sense of the sudden outbursts and change in moods.

It became too much. lol. Heck, I became too much and oddly the one thing that almost always served as a trigger to this “disease” that I was plagued with was…you already know – the rain.

I remember sitting in the big, immaculate, plush cabin that we rented for my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. The week was starting off perfect. All the family saved up and did their part to make sure we were all in attendance to the celebrate the grand occasion. Everyone was laughing, smiling, and just over the moon happy to be in each other’s presence.

Meanwhile, I was fighting inside. It was the Tyson versus Holyfield match and I was feeling defeated. It started when I woke up to mom’s breakfast in the oversized kitchen. It smelled like bacon and heavy molasses and I could hear the kiddos starting to chirp. I threw on my robe and scuffled downstairs to notice that there was an overcast outside and it was already drizzling. “God, I hope it doesn’t rain. Please don’t let it rain.” I purposely sat with my back to the window so that I couldn’t see the rain, but I could hear it. The longer I listened, the more I felt this dark cloud come over me until decided to do the only thing I knew to do…which was to busy myself until it passed.

I can’t say that it’s been an easy road when learning how to deal with depression. Some days I feel like I’ve been “deliverT,” while other days I think to myself that maybe I am moving backwards. But one thing I can say is that I’ve grown. It took experiencing that season for me to know how to navigate life moving forward. I had to realize that everything that I’ve experienced is a part of my life’s book which means that it is divinely meant to be.

I know that the rain will ultimately bring me sunshine and I believe that better days are ahead. Until then, I welcome the rain as it is nourishing the foundation that will lead to my growth.

“Send down the rain, Lord; send down the rain. Send down the latter rain. We need the rain, Lord; we need the rain. We need the latter rain!”