Living in New Orleans, the sun has been a welcome and faithful resident, greeting me in the mornings on our balcony as I sip coffee and watch the city come alive. From the beginning of this YAV (Young Adult Volunteer) year, Gulf Coast living appeared to be opposite from Emerald Isle living – but I was wrong. At the start of spring, rain came to New Orleans in powerful, electric waves: a visiting friend I didn’t know I wanted, or needed, until it came back into my life.
Rain, like grace, comes in different forms throughout our lives. During my YAV year in Belfast it lived right around the corner and we became close friends. It was a part of Ireland’s history, its people, its beauty and its inspiration. Dampness would linger in the air from the consistent, calm mist that gave life and vibrancy to its rolling green hills. Showers caused strangers to become friends in the shelter of pubs and cafés, and a hint of sun would brighten the gray skies with the most colorful rainbows. The rain in Belfast taught me that God’s grace is always surrounding us and is freely given.
In New Orleans, the rain is teaching me that faith is contradictory and counterintuitive. Here it’s often a powerful downpour, slowing traffic on freeways and flooding canals. It comes without want or warning, causing unplanned stillness to occur in the deep waters. Almost 12 years after Hurricane Katrina, not a day has gone by during my time here in which it isn’t mentioned in conversation – whether it’s at the library working with a patron on a resume or overhearing strangers in a restaurant. Rain has taught this city about resilience and hope growing out of devastation.
Also during this YAV year I’ve done a lot of “unlearning” about race, religion and politics – from both literal and figurative stormy stories of others – and how it all relates to my faith and identity as a white, female, American Christian. I’ve started to grapple with my own overwhelming pursuit of perfection in myself and in the world and how I’ve let waves of fear and anxiety become destructive forces rather than swimming lessons. I’m relearning how to pursue God in the present, letting God’s grace be sufficient for each wave.
For rain, a falling contradiction coexisting in both YAV years, I’m grateful. Rain is an unexpected healer when I feel burnt out, restless or anxious. Rain makes me pause, slowing down long enough to recognize and accept the grace being poured out. Rain destroys at the same time it rejuvenates, but grace remains unchanged. Rain is teaching me that the demand for perfection doesn’t mean believing I am above and beyond perfection, but consciously forgiving and including imperfection my life. It teaches me that spiritual growth isn’t linear, but exists in the waves – the changing waters that bring both hurricanes and rainbows. The course of nature can’t be altered any more than our faith journeys, but we can find God’s grace in the rain.
Hillary Leslie is a second year Young Adult Volunteer currently serving with YMCA Educational Services in New Orleans after a year of church and community volunteering in Belfast, Northern Ireland.
