I am fortunate to have had my maternal grandmother in my life as a child. She was a strong-willed woman with a strong prayer life. I am thankful for the many things I learned as I listened in the hallway to her converse with God.
I was eighteen years old when she died after a battle with breast cancer. There was so much going on in my life, and I struggled deeply to understand how the God, who had always been there for me for as long as I could remember, would allow her to die. So many people prayed. So many believed she would beat the cancer. I was angry, and I deliberately shut God out. I knew He was there, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I had so many questions, and He knew I wasn’t ready for the answers.
I am thankful he knows each of us better than we know ourselves. After a difficult season, I began to slowly let Him in. He gave me the answers in a slow, gentle rain over the years rather than a flood I thought I wanted. That’s my nature—to want it all at once, rather than at the capacity in which I can absorb it, which is most beneficial to me.
Just as rain nourishes the ground, God’s presence provides life and growth for the spirit. After a long season, in which the ground has received no rain, it is hard and at first it resists the rain. That is what happened to my heart. I had allowed it to harden. I thought I was protecting myself, but in reality, I was just allowing the ground of my heart to grow more desolate without nourishment from his presence. I eventually discovered when we go without a drink of God’s presence; our hearts can become hard and resistant to his outpourings.
I pray that I will always be open and ready for an outpouring of his presence to quench the thirst my soul desperately need.
Lord, send the rain!