Here in the Midwest, we’re deep in that in‑between stretch of spring—the part where everything is waking up, but not quite ready to burst into full bloom. We recently had a full day of rain, the kind that keeps you inside from morning to night. The kids were restless, I was antsy, and we all felt a little trapped in the house. We’re already dreaming of long days at the river, sun on our shoulders, and the freedom of summer. So this rain felt like a forced pause.

But outside, the flowers and trees were drinking it in. You could almost see them reaching upward, grateful for the nourishment. It reminded me that we don’t want to wish away this in‑between time. The pauses are just as important as the bright, busy days. Sometimes they’re the only thing that allows the next season of growth to take root.

Growth is Happening In The Stillness

That’s what inspired this week’s meditation—a few minutes to sit inside a warm spring rain, let the mind settle, and remember that growth is happening even when we’re still.

I invite you to imagine yourself sitting outside on a small stool, overlooking a creek or your own backyard. The sky darkens, a warm breeze rolls in, and you know rain is coming. You think about taking cover, but when the first drops hit your face, you realize there’s no thunder. So you stay. You let the rain arrive.

As the gentle downpour begins, you feel your busy thoughts washing away—running down your clothes and into the earth, just like the dust rinsing off the leaves around you. You stop striving. You stop thinking. You just are. And in that stillness, something inside you softens.

When the rain lightens and the sun returns, you feel renewed. The warmth on your skin reminds you that even in the quiet moments, even in the pauses, growth is happening. Maybe especially then.

Use Your Pauses to Take Root

I’ve been holding onto that image this week. It’s so easy to feel like nothing is moving fast enough, like the work we’re doing isn’t showing results, like change is taking too long. But nature keeps teaching us the same lesson: growth doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it happens quietly, beneath the surface, while we’re simply breathing.

So the next time you feel stuck in the in‑between, or impatient for the next season to arrive, remember the spring rain. Remember the pause. Remember that something inside you is stretching toward the light, even when you can’t see it yet.

Stay curious.