It’s a God thing.
I started this day not knowing what I wanted to write about. Kim asked us to write about compassion. I waited for inspiration.
Nothing. So I went for a walk.
There was a soft rain shower, but I went anyway.
And then God did God’s thing: a double rainbow!
When I see a rainbow, I have a list of people I send it to.
Julie: Julie lost her daughter to drowning, and she feels her presence when she sees a rainbow. When I texted it to Julie, she said someone else had already told her and she had gone out to see it herself. She texted back her photos.
Wilson: Wilson lost Betty this summer. I walk by their house on my route, so I think about her and miss her every day. Wilson responded, “I needed this.”
Susan: She’s battling cancer and has had some rough news lately. I wanted her to know she was in my prayers.
Suzy: I’ve sent rainbow photos to Suzy for years. She lost two husbands. When her first husband died, we were teaching together. She told me that when she was trying to make a difficult decision, she felt that Steve sent her a rainbow to let her know she was OK. We may not talk as often now, but the rainbow exh
Shirley: Shirley had knee surgery a few weeks ago. The tip of the rainbow touched the roof of her house. She, too, responded that she needed it today.
Two Lisas: I meant to send the photo to Lisa D., but I accidentally sent it to Lisa R. It was fine because my message was “I hope you find peace today.” Lisa R. wrote, “Yesterday at healing service I prayed for a clean heart.”
Finally got it to Lisa D. who lost her husband early this year to cancer.
The double rainbow compassion gave me a way to reach out to friends in a loving way. May you find miracles around you, and a way to share them with others. It’s a God thing, making connections and being near each other in grief and pain.
Reflections on the Teche 
What a simple and wonderful gift to send to those who might need a lift in their day! Loved the rainbow. We could use a light rain here today but sun and rich blue skies are blessing our day instead.
What an absolutely stunning event and post. God does the most exquisite and individual things…for all of us. I love that you share a rainbow with people. And, I love that you didn’t know what you’d write about so the “what” found you. Stunning morning walk, I’d say.
I have a feeling that the rainbow you share with your friends is a pot of gold for them. It is a promise from God that after a storm, all will be well.
Margaret, such beauty in the double rainbow! What a beautiful way to show compassion, and a great place to find it – – on a walk, in the sky. They say a lot of what we see depends on what we’re looking for, and you found inspiration for compassion in a double rainbow. That’s a God moment for sure.
Margaret, you remind me of a favorite definition of “awe”: Realizing you’re part of something far greater that yourself, which makes you more altruistic. Rainbows invoke awe. They’re fleeting images of glory. We see one and we are still; we even breathe differently. For that moment, awe opens the door to peace. What a lovely service of compassion, sending the rainbow photos to those who need comfort. I especially note the “accidental” Lisa which turned out to be not accidental at all, but came from a higher place. On my sixtieth birthday earlier this year, driving home from dinner after a rainstorm, fiery rainbows appeared in the sky. I’d never seen them this bright before – I videoed with my phone. The awe – and profound gratitude to God for his many unfailing gifts – stays with me. You are one of those gifts, friend. Thank you for this today.
I love that this single-double rainbow (and YOU) did so much good in the world!
Margaret: What a great way to show compassion! Thank you for this idea, and for the various responses. God at work by way of your connections and compassion!!!
Gosh Margaret –what a gift you are to so many! Such a simple, yet profound act of compassion — to be present, to walk with others in need… to suffer together. Yes, it is a God-thing. One that I believe was Jesus’ main message. Thank you for this reflection.