Rain

It appears that it is storm season here in Asia. I was beginning to think that "rainy" season here in the mid-Visayas actually meant "not-really-really-dry" season. But the last 2 days have proved me wrong as the rain has poured down outside. Cutting power, and dripping through my roof to land in strategically placed buckets. I love rain, have always loved it, I even love those gray days that look like rain and don't deliver. And these days I am learning that it is because I have never had to deal with the violence of nature, or with the lives of ones I love being snuffed out in a storm.
As far as I know rainy season has not disappointed inhabitants of Luzon, with the usual typhoons, and floods hitting them for the last few months. And as I read in the news today it appears that storms have been claiming quite a toll in Bangladesh with estimates of some 10,000 dead in the wake of a cyclone last week! My God! It's unimaginable, and perhaps you've been watching it all on the news, perhaps you don't have to imagine it now. But this is the first I've heard, and my heart is heavy with the weight of all those lives lost so violently. So meaninglessly.
I will NEVER understand the meaning of all the world's suffering. I will never have answers to my questions about disparity or brokeness. And as a storm rages outside, and I am safe right here, I wonder how it's fair that I have the privilege of safety. The privilege of loving rain storms.