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It's raining again in England

Why do we hate the rain so in England?
When it patters on our window
And lashes in the street?
This is God's wonderful gift of Life to us,
Making the pastures lush and green,
Filling the cows with wholesome milk.
Why do we hate it so?

Why?
When it makes us fat and rich do we say,
"What an awful day!"
When our very lives depend on it.
Many would happily exchange it with us
For their constantly burning, cruel sun.
Many would say," Let us have your home in the green valleys.
You can have our desert sand
And rocky, bare hills."
Then we might realize our ingratitude.
Then we might turn to God and be thankful.
Thank you, Lord for the full rushing river.
Thank you Lord for the spongy moor,
That holds the rain ready for later.
Thank you Lord for the puddles the children love to splash in.
(If Health and Safety will let them do it any more.)
Thank you for the grey days of rain
That make us appreciate the sunny days more.
Thank you for a wholesome variety.
Made of all things.



We moan about the rain in England, but where you live you would probably like some more, so that your crops will grow. Is there something you take for granted when you should be thankful?
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