Rain is good.

Rain is what grows our plants, fills our lakes, and gives our animals something to drink. It helps our industry and fills our bottles.

But it's more than that, and I often forget that. God has a funny sense of humor, sending us three days (at least at this point) of solid rain and foggy skies. Rain is so much more than the H2O and the fact that it makes up 70 percent of our bodies.

Ever wonder why most of the great songs in history involve rain?

"...singin' in the rain..."
"...it's raining men, hallelujah..." (no judgment, this song is a classic)
"...the way you move is like a full-on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards..."

Literally, when I Googled "songs about rain," thousands of results came up. Rain means different things to everyone. To some, being clean. To others, magnitude and strength. To even other people, a reason to stay in bed all day (guilty).

Rain on your wedding is good luck.

In Texas, when it rains, it pours. This ain't no Seattle or Portland rain, we're talking flooded streets and the comfort of rain-boots and warm cups of coffee.

For me, it seems like everything is better in the rain. Our smiles are warmer, despite the cool breeze. Running through the rain to your car causes laughter and joy, a stark difference from the heat we had just mere days ago.

Rain is good. People are good.

Below are (a few) of the seniors in my sorority, and some of my best friends. Both this semester and last, our formals were during torrential downpours, but I wouldn't have them any other way. It's helped us to dream again.

#seniors

"Who needs heels? Let's wear converse." So we wore Converse.
"How can we do our hair so it looks good wet?" Correct answer? Just throw it up.
"Let's rent a kayak from the Rec center so we can float home." I'm still debating this.

I'm always going to remember the large rain spot on my dress, as pictured below. Oops. It adds character to the picture, right?

I'll always remember my last Victory because of how my friends and I ran around like airplanes on the dance floor during the slow dances while all the new members waltzed with their dates. I'll remember getting Chick-Fil-A for dinner because we're cheap college students. I'll remember running through puddles. I'll remember these girls, and I'll remember the rain.

But I'll also remember my homeless friends I spent the morning with. I heard about their struggles to stay dry and warm, but staying cheerful despite circumstances. They don't let literal rain fall on their parade of crazy dance moves (get ready for our flash mob, Fort Worth), so why should I? Let us dance in the rain - the world is our dance floor.