The Beauty of Rain
Added on the 3rd of September, 2005
They lingered near the entrance,
it seemed a line went on for miles,
Tears and sobs were hard throughout,
so many faces, without a smile.
And so many questions filled their minds,
not one of them understood,
How God could take Michael away,
someone so young and truly good.
For Michael gave of himself,
to anyone around in need,
There wasn't a day that didn't go by,
without Michael performing good deeds.
He visited the local rest home,
understood the hardships faced by the old,
Respected all the residents,
and listened to the stories they told.
For he knew someday he could be there,
standing alone in their place,
So Michael cherished their wisdom,
and the smiles he brought to their face.
Two parents stood in anguish,
fighting hard and trying to grasp,
How a freakish, tragic accident,
could change their lives in a snap.
And oh how their minds filled with questions,
and they just couldn't quite understand
How God could take their son away,
before he grew into a man.
For Michael gave them respect,
he never gave them hard times,
And he even did it in a way that was kind.
For he knew that someday he could be there,
having a son of his own,
So Michael cherished his parents,
and the comfort they gave him at home.
Classmates circled in silence,
struggling just to comprehend,
Bewildered by the incident,
that had robbed them of their good friend.
How in the world did it happen,
why didn't God intervene?
Why did he have to take Michael,
who was filled with such hope and dreams?
Who always to them was a true friend,
and to anyone ever in need.
He didn't judge others by class,
their color, their race or their creed
For he knew someday he could be there,
needing someone to turn to,
So Michael valued each person,
offering friendship so loyal and true.
There were pictures displayed all around,
allowing everyone present to see,
Times with Michael alive and well,
times that never again were to be.
There was Michael wearing a baseball cap,
smiling his notable grin,
Working on his old pickup truck,
oil streaking down his chin.
One of him dressed for his junior prom,
his tie adorned in a bow,
Another of Michael at five years old,
building a fortress from the remnants of snow.
Pictures from such a short lifetime,
a life that no longer would be
So many days that lay ahead,
moments Michael would not get to see.
And the scent of bouquets of flowers,
overpowered the much crowded room,
A CD player was hauntingly playing,
Michael's most favorite tunes.
How in the world could they bear it,
how would they ever go on?
Why had God taken Michael,
how did things go so horribly wrong?
In his hands he held Michael's Bible,
he was to read from its pages that day,
To try and make sense of what happened,
why Michael's life was taken away.
And as all eyes focused upon him,
people sobbed all round from their seats,
The pastor from Michael's church,
wondered what words he should speak.
For how could he help bring them comfort,
to put everyone's mind there at rest,
It seemed assuredly certain,
God was putting his faith to the test.
And there with all eyes upon him,
hundreds standing and sitting around,
He nervously dropped Michael's Bible,
a piece of paper fell to the ground.
All eyes watched him retrieve it,
and for a moment, as he stood there,
He silently read the words on that paper,
holding the writing midair.
And though it seemed impossible,
it appeared God intervened with a plan,
For the words on that paper before him,
had been written by Michael's own hand.
And so everyone listened intently,
Michael's words now filling the air,
And with each word that was spoken,
it seemed Michael himself was right there.
"Lord, I've so often wondered,
why people have to know pain,
Why, when they need the sunshine,
do You often send them the rain?
I've tried so hard to perceive it,
why things happened the way that they do,
That I've often felt so hopeless,
frustrated and furious, too.
But somehow I've come to realize,
at last I finally see,
That You have given me my life,
and how I live it is all up to me.
So You can't be blamed for my sorrow,
You can't be blamed for my pain,
And I need to stop hoping for sunshine,
and instead see the beauty of rain.
For someday I know I might be there,
standing happily next to Your side,
And I want to be worthy of heaven,
and to leave only good things behind."
The pastor bowed down his head,
and asked everyone there to please pray,
For each of them to value the lesson,
that Michael had left them that day.
To be able to work through their sorrow,
to pick themselves up off the ground,
And instead of living in sadness,
choose to spread Michael's message around.
For God can't be blamed for sorrow,
God can't be blamed for your pain,
We can't always hope for the sunshine,
we must see the beauty in rain.
And take pride in the wisdom of knowing,
that now he stands next to God's side,
For Michael was worthy of heaven,
he left many good things behind.
-Cheryl Costello-Forshey