It rains in my barn. I don't mean rain blows into my barn. I mean, it rains in my barn. As you may remember, my hunting perch is on the second level of a barn. It's perfect. Well, almost perfect. It's that pesky rain. This time of year, it gets below freezing in my area, in the mornings. When it does, the tin roof frosts up. But when the sun begins to come out, the rays began to bear down on my roof. So, as the frost begins to melt, it begins to drop like rain inside my barn until it's all gone. In the meantime, I either must try to dodge drops or pack my rain gear. What's weird is looking outside and seeing all the beautiful sunshine while inside, I'm enduring my rain. I know if someone were to drive by and notice my environment, there's no doubt they would think of how blessed I am, according to what they can see. They just can't see the rain on the inside. Words are so important. They can lift up or tear down. They can bring life or death. They usually are spoken in response to what we see. The problem is, we can only see the outside. And unbeknown to us, it might be raining on the inside. As you drive by people's lives this week, ask God if it's raining in their barn. They might need your sunshine until it's all dried up. Now, get out of here. You're needed.