This morning, I walk outside into warm, moist air. The smell of rain greets me: refreshment; renewal; rebirth.

Eric, Drew, and I eat at Dixie Pig for breakfast. Long friendship and conversation reinforced by eggs, biscuits and gravy, and “can I getcha more coffee, sugar?”

Walking to chapel in the rapidly cooling air; cold rain drops covering my glasses, soaking my hair, seeping into my shirt. I shiver, completely underdressed, but I am alive.

I take my seat in the basketball stadium which doubles as the school’s chapel. Eric is playing guitar. The music wells up, and I glance to the right. There are dancers—just three or four of them—lost in the ebb and flow of the Holy Spirit.

And I lose it.

The words are simple, and they’re from a song I’ve heard again and again, but somehow forgot.

I’m finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noise
All that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voice

Word of God speak
Would you pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That you’re in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In your holiness
Word of God speak

And then I realize:

It was a baptizing rain. A resurrection rain.

I am made new.