What the Paris Rain Taught Me About Peace

What the Paris Rain Taught Me About Peace

It started with a drizzle.

The kind of rain that doesn’t ask permission,

just falls gently, like a sigh.

___

I had no umbrella.

Only a scarf, a journal, and a hungry heart.

___

I’d been walking the streets of Paris trying to find something;

a landmark, a moment, maybe even myself.

But the map had folded wrong; also my feet had led me off-script.

Away from the crowds,I veered into a quiet alley, 

where ivy kissed old stone

and the rain kept falling.

___

At first, I felt the tension rise,

the kind that comes when plans get wet.

But then, something in me stopped.

___

At first, I felt the tension rise,

the kind that comes when plans get wet…

But then, something in me stopped.

There was no rush.

No reason to panic.

Just me, the rain,

and a stillness I hadn’t known I was craving.

___

___

 My scarf tucked tighter, I leaned against the damp wall,

and let the rain baptize my day.

Pigeons fluttered overhead.

A young couple laughed beneath a shared umbrella.

Somehow, it was enough.

___

And in that holy hush,

I realized I didn’t need to chase anything.

God was already here;

in the droplets,

in the detour,

in me.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for the pauses.

For the rain that slows me down.

For detours that become sacred.

Teach my soul to breathe deeply,

even when my plans wash away.

Let peace rise not from control,

but from communion with You.

___

 Memory Verse

 “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You.”

—Isaiah 26:3 (NIV)