Read Isaiah 35: 1-2, 5-7
Rain. Nose-dripping, umbrella-flipping, gray-sky, dreary rain, it has been raining torrents for seven days. I sit here nursing a old. wishing that the rain would stop, and longing for the blue-sky, warm days of summer.
My mind wanders, visiting summers past. Our first year here we planted forty trees. Summer came with its searing Alabama heat, unbearable to me and death to my baby trees. What I would have given for this rain then! My young trees must have felt like the desert in Isaiah. When it finally did rain, I imagined them slurping their gratitude for the life-giving water. Just like me.
Many times I too have felt parched by times of loneliness and grief; times when no one seemed to appreciate me; times when parenting was gut-wrenchingly difficult. I was cracked, parched, and dry-soul dry. I longed for the water to”gush forth in [my] wilderness” (NIV).
During those times, God’s rain started with one drop (a smile from a grocery clerk). And then another (a phone call). And another (an answered prayer). Before [ knew it, I found myself in a shower of God’s life-giving water. I drank it in as my trees drank, with slurps of gratitude. My “burning sand” became a “pool.” My “thirsty ground” bubbled with God’s spring (NIV).
Living water. God’s sustenance.
During these dark midwinter day of Advent, whether we rush from one activity to the next or nurse a cold at home, let us take time to remember the droughts in our lives and dance with joy because God gives us the grace -filled rain of divine love.
Lord, we thank you for Jesus’ life-giving water. Fill us up so that we can overflow for others. Amen.