I reach out to God in eccentric ways at times. Sometimes I ask, playfully, for a sign that He listens. I once had a long meditative discussion with Him during a drive along the California coast in the winter. It rained off and on for hours. Eventually I chuckled about having a long conversation with someone who might not be listening, or even present, and said, "If you were here, how would I know? How would you speak to me, let me know you hear me?" I remembered Elijah's experience with the still, small voice, and jokingly thought, "You could talk to me with rain." Not two minutes later I drove into a cloudburst, almost too much rain to drive in.
Another time, on a bright spring day, I reached out again, this time in need of support. "How about a bird, Lord? When I see a bird I will know You are with me." and a Junco hops out of a bush by the door.
Now, in high summer, in the midst of an early morning of angst, I wondered, "How much would You do to show Your presence in my life?" The air became balmy, and a tropical air mass began moving in from the South. When I left for work, it began to rain.
Scripture also speaks of asking for the wrong things, not praying rightly. I have learned through long experience that prayers for mundane or worldly things do not produce the desired result, but prayers for strength, patience, even guidance, do. The virtues spelled out by Catholic dogma, patience, tolerance, and so on, may be difficult but I have received them when I asked.
And sometimes, just for fun, I ask for rain.
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