by Alyssa von Helms
November 14, 2018
I have a card on my dresser that says in sparkling letters, “Ignore the RAIN, look for the RAINBOW.” It’s been sitting there for a few weeks now, and not just because the busyness of my life has turned any flat surface into a dumping ground for mail, coupons, and other knick-knacks. I know I’ve heard the phrase before, or read it, maybe on an Instagram post or seen it pop up on my Pinterest feed. It sounds pithy, maybe a little brainless, especially when the rain of life feels like more of a deluge than a refreshing sprinkle. But it comforts me for two reasons.
My mom was the one who gave me the card. We had gone car shopping, something I’d been saving up to do for what felt like ages. And after months of research, weighing my options, and prayer, I was ready to seal the deal. Everything seemed perfect—until the last second, after hours of negotiating, when everything unraveled and we walked away from the shiny new car to drive home in my old one. I won’t lie, there were a few tears shed that day. I’d been working for that car for so long and it was hard to watch that opportunity slip from my grasp.
The next morning I came home from work to find the card on my bed, contained in a sunshiny yellow envelope, rainbow letters reminding me that, although I was disappointed, I was not defeated. I read the card and then held it for a second, staring, to make a memory of the moment.
I know that God is present in my life. I can look back and see His hand orchestrating events miraculously. But it’s rare that I can hold a piece of that comforting presence, right then, right when it’s needed. I see you was what that card really said. The message was right there in the comforting words my mom had written, in the token that my Heavenly Father had prompted her to give me. I knew in my head that God was aware of my needs, and I trusted Him to provide when the time was right. What a relief, though, to feel the consideration of a parent—both earthly and heavenly—when I was tired of trusting.
On my dresser, perched on top of my jewelry box, the card is the first thing I see when I get up in the morning, its cheery message lingering in my mind throughout the day. Not the actual words printed in glitter but the ones from my mom, from my Father. I see you. I love you. If anything is going to help me ignore the rain, it’s that.
Alyssa von Helms is settling into her new job as a word processor in an accounting firm and loves driving to work each day in her new car—purchased one week after getting the card.