How His Rain is Remaking Us & How We Can Sing This Sizzling Summer Our Happy Song

These past few weeks, we’ve been in a bit of a hurricane.

A swirling of time storms and frenzied motions which keeps us going.

We’ve moved homes, packed and unpacked some ridiculous number of boxes, dealt with a great number of tradies, renovated and restyled one home to sell, while constructing and furnishing another home to dwell.

It’s been busy, it’s been messy, and we’ve been happy.

The deep kind of happy.

And I’d never forget this — how the rain actually came pouring hard the moment we moved in.

Yeah… everyone’s been sorta complaining about how this summer’s sizzled strong and stubborn, and the rains?— they’d come scant and scarce, but the first three nights in our new abode? — the heavens had torn open like nobody’s business.

They came wild and the winds had howled loud — like it’s a dare to sing cool and crazy in any drought and season of your scorching summer…

Like God reminding us how He’s the God of seasons, and how He’s got our season.

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Paul Wilkinson

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And maybe He too is calling us out of our old into our new.

And sometimes I never get over this — how you can feel God move as you move, and how the first few steps might be the scariest first steps. But look up and look ahead -because He’s the God of the breakthroughs and the God of all new beginnings and this could very well be our season of blessings…  

“Watch! I’m about to carry out something new! And now it’s springing up— don’t you recognize it? I’m making a way in the wilderness and paths in the desert.”Isaiah 43:19

God is always moving and He’s moving us.

The Husband and I had made a prayer room in our new home, a scullery turned into a sanctuary, and we were knee deep praying in the torrential thuds when he turned towards me and said, “Can you believe it? It’s winter in summer! How on earth…?”

How on earth?…

O rain, let it come, let it come…

‘He shall come down like rain…like showers that water the earth.’ (Ps 72:6)

I stood by the windows, and watched the flurry sizzled into mere drizzles.

In lands dry and dusty, we need the outpouring.

Where times are hard and trying, we need His refreshing.

We’re desperate for the presence of His breeze and blessings that brings the renewal, the refreshing, the revival. This we want, without this we can’t.

He’s never late, He’s never too slow.

You can always count on God to water arid hearts and to rend impossible heavens opened. So we can foretaste the sweet out of His bounty for all our bitter.

Because His rain isn’t merely sentimental, but supernatural, His comfort supersedes every sorrow and every tear we’ve shed.

So feel the drip and watch the rain pummelling hard your window screen, and hear, o hear, its loud thrumming on your spirit.

When all you can do is stop in the midst of your crazy lists and cease right there in the centre of your drought and desert, you can somehow see all the colours of the rainbow refracted in those tiny droplets, you can catch the joy emblazoned on the kid’s unashamed face.

She splashes mud and dirt, and elicits joy and laughter and I see how the rain’s remaking me.

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We tried stopping her, this invitation to dance in the rain and laugh with the mud.

She can’t resist, she won’t relent.

It’s a slow uprising this silent revolution.  You finding healing in His rain reclaiming every stale and stolen pieces of your past and restoring them into fresh and blossoming places.

You feeling His healing rain washing over the places that have torn you and believing He is now framing you, and you there by the window saying it defiantly: He is Healer, All is Well.

And you’re hearing it with every pounding of rain as you pray His promises soft: “Now is the year of His favour, the beginning of my breakthroughs”. 

 

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