Friday, August 10, 2012

Falling into the Rain

Falling into the Rain

Working through my newest novel project Outlaw, I’ve reached one of my favorite scenes which I call “Falling into the Rain.”  Below you’ll see that I’ve posted it to share with you.  To read more about the inspiration of the scene, see my Heart-chords post titled Falling into the Rain (www.heartchords.blogspot.com).

To refresh your memory, here’s the background of the scene.  There’s a man named Daren McDowell.  He has a terrible past- he’s an outlaw, in fact- and he’s now guilt-stricken and desperate in hopelessness, heavy-hearted with shame, regret, and failure.  He has complete distrust of everyone and everything in life; he feels nothing besides hatred, desperation, and the emotions correlated with guilt and condemnation.  But he has one primary avenue of hope to which all other elements in the story direct him back to- his childhood Bible.  He doesn’t know why he even kept it all those years on the road of running from pursuit, but he did.

            The underlying message of the story revolves around the theme of that man struggling to raise crops on his acres of property and learning to find a new beginning.  His land is dry and parched, and the soil is hardened and rocky so that virtually nothing can grow on it.  It’s in a desert-like region of the American West in the 1880s when sprinkler systems weren’t available, but never the less, this man’s land desperately needs rain.  If his crops don’t grow to show that he’s improved and worked the land, his property will be taken from him, and his attempt to build a home and live an upright life will have failed. 

            Months pass in the storyline, and the man begins to attend the town church, searching for answers and for direction of how to escape the guilt he has been carrying for years.  He wants to believe and to learn to trust and love again, but after the wrong decisions he made in the past, he just can’t accept the truth that God’s grace is so powerful that He would still love and accept him with all of his past mistakes and would still have a plan for his life.  His life is as dry and barren as his land, and he’s desperate for a breakthrough.

After an emotionally painful confrontation with one of his past gang members Skylar and after learning the outcomes of the rest of the gang members’ lives, Daren had a restless night and finally drifted into heavy slumber the next morning.  We now find him just awakening from his deep sleep.  

Falling into the Rain

 Daren stirred from his slumber.  Rolling onto his back, he squinted as he cast a glance toward the nearby window in his cabin.  He had been asleep for most of the day, and now the late afternoon sunlight illuminated the window as it reflected brightly from the reddish terrain of buttes and barren mountains in the distance.  He sighed, closing his eyes again.  Everything was so dry.

He began to contemplate again the lives of his former gang members: Trent, Cole, Clem, and Skylar.  They had all wandered through life feeling hopeless… now one had even gone to his grave in that miserable state.  They had all given up on living a fulfilling life.  He reached up to run his hands over his hair in dismay.  “I don’t wanna live the rest of my life like that.”

He thought of the Bible with its worn cover lying in the bottom drawer of his night-table.  It held so many unwelcome memories.  Did he dare bring it out again?

            Sitting up, he turned and dropped his feet to the floor, his boots sounding against the wood-planks.  Opening the bottom drawer of the night-table, he reached in and reverently lifted the Book from its place of rest.  The leaves fell open to the psalms of David, and he began to read aloud.

            “One thing God has spoken, two things have I heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you, O Lord, are loving.  Surely you will reward each person according to what he has done.”  Regret again surged through Daren’s emotions at the words.  He sighed, shaking his head in dread.  He could only imagine what kind of reward he would receive after all of the horrible things he had done.  He began reviewing the events in his mind… too many to list.

            Shifting his attention back to the Book lying open in his hands, he continued reading.  “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”

            The swell of emotions began rising again, choking in his throat.  He had been searching for answers for so long in all the wrong places.  Nothing he had found would remove the pain of the guilt and shame, the regret that plagued his thoughts daily.  He needed divine help from a Power greater than his own being, he realized.  His hands began to tremble as he fought against the tears again.

            His gaze fell upon another portion of the Book on the opposite page.  “O you who hear prayer, to you all men will come.  When we were overwhelmed by our sins, you forgave our transgressions,” he read silently.  Prayer.  Did he dare approach the Lord again after everything he had done though?  But he had nowhere else to turn.

            Laying the Bible aside on the mattress, Daren rose to his feet and slowly knelt at the side of the bed uncertainly.  He sighed heavily, struggling to steady his trembling emotions as he leaned over the comforters of the mattress, resting his brow against his folded hands.  “God, help me,” he whispered hoarsely.  “I don’t deserve to have Ya listen to me- I don’t blame Ya if Ya don’t- but I wanna believe.  I wanna trust You again… I really do,” he prayed.  “Give me faith to believe again,” he pleaded.  “Forgive me… please forgive me.  I’ve been so wrong,” he admitted, his voice wavering.  “I wanna be a good man.”  His words trailed off as the tears broke loose, coming freely. 

He stayed there on his knees leaning over the bed for what seemed like hours, crying, praying, being completely oblivious to time.  Meanwhile a gentle noise began to sound against the glass panes of his window, softly at first so that it came almost imperceptibly and gradually grew louder.  Finally it caught Daren’s attention, and raising his head from his bent position of remorse, he glanced toward the window.  The sound came louder still, and rising to his feet with a slight groan for his knees had become quite stiffened, he turned and made his way to the door.  He swung the door open on its creaking hinges and halted abruptly in the doorway.

A heavy sheet of rain was falling.  Steadily it came.  He watched as it fell upon his barren acres, toiled and seeded… waiting for rain.  After months of waiting.  In a daze of disbelief, he stepped outside, feeling the rain on his skin.  It was as though the world came to a stop as he stood there relishing in the rain shower.  It came drenching, soaking through his shirt and onto his back.  He turned his face up to the clouded sky, and the tears came again, falling with the raindrops that ran dripping down his face.  “God, You gave me rain,” he acknowledged in a whisper.

He fell to his knees in relief as the water came running over head, his face, his hair.  And it came and came again, never ceasing.  He closed his eyes, keeping his face turned up to the heavens.  Rain.  It was really finally raining.  He smiled, his expression spreading broader until it broke into a laugh of liberation and overjoy.  He ran his hands over his dripping hair as he laughed, attempting to grip the joyous reality.  “Rain.”   


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