When I got up this morning, it was pouring down rain. The grey skies coupled with the cold air and the rain did nothing at all to help my already-sour mood.
I trudged through the lunch-making --if you can call stuffing a pizza Lunchable and a bag of baby carrots into a backpack 'lunch-making'-- and the getting-dressed and the diaper-changing. Then I wasted a little too much time on the computer and had to scoot more quickly than I'd have liked to get Abby to school on time. But we managed. And then I dragged myself to preschool to drop Isaac off for the morning.
And then, despite the driving rain, I drove to the cemetary. I don't really know why, since I usually go to water the flowers. But I was in auto-pilot. With sheets of rain streaming down my windshield and an equally impressive sheet of tears streaming down my face, I pulled up next to Logan's grave, and cut the engine. And I sat there, listening to the rain pounding on my roof and the sounds of Brady singing his ABCs in the way-back seat. I told God that I felt abandoned. I asked, for the thousandth time, why He hadn't saved my baby. I asked how He expected me to believe in anything after the horror that was watching my son die. I asked, point blank, why He didn't love me.
It didn't feel good, sitting there in the car parked next to my son's grave, living out a scene from a nightmare most people never even have to imagine.
After a minute, the sky directly ahead and up brightened a bit. The sun didn't break through, but for the first time this morning, I saw a ray of light so subtle that I questioned whether there truly was any light at all.
I started the car, but quickly cut the engine after a feeling came to me that simply said 'wait'. I can't say it was a voice. It was more of a feeling. And I don't know why I listened to it. I just did. I sat in the silence again for a moment, and then I felt something else: 'get out'. Grumbling, I opened the door, and stepped outside. I whirled around, muttering (aloud -- if you'd been there, you would've heard me) something along the lines of 'okay, so why am I wasting time getting out of the car? Just so I can get wetter than I already am? And then I stopped. And I mean dead-in-my-tracks stopped. Because right there in front of me, stretched all the way across the sky in an end-to-end perfect arc, was a rainbow.
I don't know what to make of it. But it brought me a small amount of peace in the moment. And it brought to mind lyrics from a song I've rehashed many times over the past 8 months, including earlier this morning:
Lord, make me a rainbow
I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you
When she stands under my colors.
For non-country music fans, the lyrics are from The Band Perry's "If I Die Young". I hated that song for a long time, but now... well, now it speaks to me. Especially when I'm standing under those colors.