“The Lord will open to you his good treasury, the heavens, to give the rain to your land in its season and to bless all the work of your hands.” Deuteronomy 28:12.

It has been a season of drought for us. 

Our green grass, dry now. A brown straw, mostly, demanding that we wear shoes to crunch back to the flower beds or risk “the pokeys” as our little grandson reports. And I have band aids on the bottom of my feet to say he is right—completely my fault. Maybe I tiptoe through like this because I crave barefoot, easy-breezy seasons of life with summer storms and rain-soaked clouds. But also, I crave no more band aids, please. Shoes on it is, for now.

Because. 

Life, we know, is not “pokey” proof, pain proof, or drought proof. But what if a season of rainless clouds and discouragement brought with it our greater faith and awareness of spiritual things? What if pain brings more rain to defeat dust? But, Jesus helps us find faith over feelings as we find His way forward (Because feelings are like the weather, only, way more unpredictable, right?)? 

What then is the forecast for us? Hmmm? Let’s just call it partly cloudy with a 100% chance of rain, I think. 

 Because the rains came. Ahhh!

And quenched. Touched. Changed. Everything. God’s goodness poured into the cracks of the pokey ground, until it overflowed and watered every shallow thing and every deep thing in my life. But it was drought and rain, both, that made me dance barefooted in the rain again:

“The Lord will open to you his good treasury, the heavens, to give the rain to your land in its season and to bless all the work of your hands.” Deuteronomy 28:12. 

Remember God

I confess, sometimes it’s just too easy to forget that a God who “gives rain to your land” also gives divine attention to your spirit as well. 

It’s true. God used this year of personal scarcity to bring spiritual transformation and treasure to my forever future. For example, first and foremost, I consider myself a fixer. Which is, I admit, a deep-rooted problem in my doitmyself soul. I mean, I write books titled Fix Her Upper, so if the shoe fits through the field of pokeys and pain, well, trust me—I’ll try and wear it. Or should I say, I’ll try and fix it? 

While discouragement and doubt and fix-it-ness heat up, though, faith—like rain up from the ground—rises. God’s care, saturating, replenishing, supporting the truth in this hope from Isaiah. And the rains came with a promise of grace:

“For I will pour water on the land, and streams on the dry ground: I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants.” Isaiah 44:3. The hope in this verse could fill an empty cloud with transforming power, don’t you think?

We do not always see our own transformation taking place—we linger in the swelter of the sun, squinting, waiting. And then, when the rain comes, drenching, soaking, we have a wholeness of soul that only happens from heavy heat mixed with supernatural downpours. Like a desert flower, we need both, I think.

Care matches circumstance

Maybe you’ve felt the heat of circumstance rolling over the fields like I have, only to produce a need for more surrender to Jesus’ care…like I have. Well, we’re in good company, because Elijah (1 Kings 17: 1-7) experienced a drought that gave him greater faith in God’s power and provision, gave him strength to worship, and gave him a type of life in which to flourish and worship and glorify God. Elijah lived in the atmosphere of this verse, knowing, “They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:8 NIV.

This verse reminds us that we have drought-resistant fruit growing in us and through Christ. Yes, the drought came. But, friends, so did the rain! 

Jesus, 
Thank you for the drought and downpour. Help us remember that You are at work TO: 
*Test the absolute truth of Your Word and promises against fallible intuitions and self-help schemes.
*Increase a dependency in You and not our mommy-fix-it-ness. 
*Trust Your good treasure to be exactly enough for us.  
*Receive Your big blessings in our small cups and watch them overflow, running over in ways we never-ever dreamed or imagined. 
And may we find the renewed hope to dance in the rain today, Lord. Barefooted, with no pokeys please. Amen.