One hot August evening I reluctantly decided to mow the grass in my backyard. It had been three weeks since I had cut it, definitely an anomaly for August in south Louisiana where at times mowing the grass once per week is not often enough. But things were different this year, we had been in a severe drought. The ground was so dry that there was a state mandated burn ban. This was the hottest and driest I had ever seen it. My backyard was mostly crunchy brown grass with small patches of green here and there. I braved the dust storm and mowed the few green patches in minutes.

Then early the next morning around 1:00am, I heard thunder. It started as a low rumble off in the distance and gradually grew to be intense, waking me up with flashes of lightning that announced an intense storm. I listened as large drops of rain collided with the arched bedroom window above our bed. I remember wondering in my half wakened state, “Will it be enough rain to make a difference?” In time, the sounds of thunder eventually subsided and I fell back asleep.

Later that morning, I walked out into our backyard around 10:00am. It was amazing. Most of the grass that had been brown and crunchy twelve hours earlier was green again. I was astonished at how quickly the grass had recovered. Just the evening before the grass was brown, dry, brittle and lifeless. And now -only hours after the rain it was bright green, returning to health and full of life.

I continued to take in the beautiful sight for a few minutes and then thought to myself, “What a difference the rain makes.” I thought of all the portable sprinklers I had seen around my neighborhood attempting to sustain the green grass during this unprecedented hot dry summer. The sprinklers had been moderately effective, but the grass still showed signs of stress from the drought and the efforts and expense to sustain these artificial water delivery systems were substantial.  But the rain just comes when it is ready, when it is time, -and the impact that it makes is dramatic. The rain made all the efforts of the artificial water delivery systems seem small, inefficient and to some extent ineffective. What a difference the rain makes.

There was a lesson for me in the observations that I shared above.  Artificial irrigation has been in existence for thousands of years. However, could there be times where we use the artificial to accomplish things that should be natural? I have a very high work ethic and consider myself to be a smart person. Between sheer grit, determination, a very logical mind and sometimes brute force I can usually make things happen and get things done. But I have also discovered another dynamic that substantially factors into my life: When the rain comes, change happens more easily and naturally.

I cannot make it rain and if I attempt to create rain artificially, it costs me considerable amounts of energy, time and treasure.  And, the results are still not the same as when mother nature sends a thunderstorm. Rather than attempting to create the rain myself, I am learning to adjust my life rhythms to the timing of the thunderstorms. By making this adjustment, I spend less time and energy creating and maintaining artificial landscapes irrigated with artificial rain. The more I learn to do this, the more time and capacity I have to appreciate and enjoy all the natural beauty that is around me.  I am still learning and growing as I integrate this principle in to my life, but I can already see the benefits of yielding to it.