The Healing Rain

I awoke to rain this morning, not a thunderstorm, but just a nice steady rainfall.
I love the sound. It makes you want to grab a cup of coffee and sit in front of the fire.
When growing up, we lived three houses away from the St. Johns River. When an afternoon rain came, many times I would walk down to the river. There I would sit under a majestic oak tree that was so dense that it provided shelter from most of the rain. I would watch the rain fall on the river. It was my secret place that seem to cleanse my soul from the conflict within my home.
In the rain everything was clean and fresh. The smell after the rain was intoxicating.
Since I was raised in Florida, I saw many hurricanes. Only a few were devastating, but for the most part they seem to bring an intense winnowing away of the filth of life. Dead, lifeless branches were pruned by the storm. When it was over, even in the chaos, there was a cleanness in the air.
Now in my senior years, I look back and see that there were indeed many storms. Some I was sure at the time that I could not weather. But I did and the things that really were not necessary in my life that I was not willing to release, the storm pruned. My soul was cleaner after each storm. Sometimes there was a time of healing and restoration that had to take place, but when I yielded to that, I was stronger.
What needs to be washed out of your life today? What has been pruned so severely that you ache?