I look up at the dark clouds rolling in. They, too, carry a burden, tugging them lower. Surely, that’s what my soul looks like—an ugly grey mass. I’ve felt its heaviness for so long that I assume I always will. It's like I’m trudging through knee-high mud every day. 

But then… it starts to rain. 

I usually run inside when the sprinkles start, but a cardinal swoops down and lands on the wooden fence, giving me pause. It shakes the water droplets from its feathers a bit, but then tucks them close as if settling in. I didn’t expect this brightly-colored companion, and it gives me courage to stay, suddenly curious as to what it will feel like to not run from a storm.

Then, something unexpected happens. My bottled grief pours its own water alongside rain from the clouds. I can’t tell which is which upon my wet face. Neither let up as I stand waterlogged beside the cardinal, holding steadfast. I find I’m stronger than I thought. 

When the sky finally brightens around me, my sobs release its tight grip on my body. Oh my goodness, I feel lighter inside. I look to the cardinal who flaps its wings, shedding the weight of the water, before it flies away. 

I realize, like the rain, my sorrow is not meant to be held in. My spirits lift like the newly unburdened clouds. My soul is cleansed like the rain cleanses the earth, and the sun shines through the fractures in my heart. 

Grief is a part of life. Part of the life cycle of my soul. It's proof that I have love within me. 

So… I thank you, rain, for showing me the way.