After the Rain
After it rains the grass puffs up and stands tall towards the sky with deep green praise. Flowers come alive with rich, vibrant color communicating satisfaction with their Creator and Sustainer. Everything looks plumper, a picture of health, after the rain falls on the earth.
Rain is a blessing in nature because there is always a dependent thirst.
The sky turns dark and the thunder sounds a deep rumble. I can imagine the anticipation in the trees, the excitement of the wildlife. Reverence. It begins slow, like a dripping faucet. Then rain pours out like a bucket turned overhead.
Rain creates reservoirs for later need, puddling up across the land to provide provision in the days to come. I can imagine the relief of the deer that discovers its thirst quenched weeks after the rainfall.
Praise for believers is learning to recognize thirst, discovering places in our faith that inspire dependence, receiving blessing like rain in the impossibly dry places of the soul that if not for God's touch would be dry forever. Speaking out loud, words that follow blessing. Thank you. Acknowledging the innumerable areas where His provision was lovingly planned before need was even known. Weeks, maybe even years before needing it, just waiting to be discovered.
What a joy-filled thought. Comforting in the deepest sense.
Praise is opening my eyes wide, waking up, being shaken from the slumber that has forced my mind to become numb to miracles. I can easily forget blessing and even more forget how to form the words in my mouth "thank you." My "thank you" is what puts a voice to my dependence, without it the only sound left is entitlement.
Praise is battling against seeing miracles around me as nothing more than common place occurrences.
Like rain.
Praise is understanding that all good things come from above, that the storehouse of blessing is overhead. It is choosing to remember that in our moments of greatest need, God has already prepared a place of abundant provision. He has already been to that place and is only returning with you a second time.
What comfort. Relief.
“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above; it comes down from the Father of lights [the Creator and Sustainer of the heavens], in whom there is no variation [no rising or setting] or shadow cast by His turning [for He is perfect and never changes].”
I can get stuck in patterns, following the lines of the culture in and out until I am locked into a certain way of seeing life. I become the author of my own story, plotting the turns and planning the course, passing the provision and determining to quench my thirst in the places of my own choice.
Independent.
I miss so much of what I have been given when I fail to receive it in the moment that I need it the most. I lose my sense of discovery, my comfort in knowing He will be found faithful in my need.
I become content to have clouds without rain. I become satisfied with the patterns of the world, comfortable with calling the sacred blessings from God commonplace. Life forms a grey tent to it, mimicking rainfall, but providing only darkness.
Conformed.
Transformed is the way of dependence. How beautiful is the outward expression of a trusting soul saturated with the Words of God. We are plumper, a picture of health, standing tall towards the sky after receiving the blessings of our Father. Victory in the battle over calling the sacred commonplace.
True sight.
The change that is taking place in us cannot remain on the inside. It is an inner health that is created to be an expression on the outside within our daily experiences. Transforming the way we see, the way we speak and the way we enjoy the gifts all around us.
Like rain.