Monday, February 11, 2019

A Dry and Weary Land

If you have never lived in a place that has experienced a true dry season – where you literally go months without a  drop of rain,  I am not sure you can truly appreciate how exciting and magnificent it is when rain appears suddenly.  In Mundri it was so, so, so hot.  We would sit outside in the shade because there was no breeze inside.  The heat of the day could be 115-120, and at night during the hottest time of year we would be happy to see low 90s.  So in the middle of dry season, when what the Moru people called the “Mango rains”  (ushering in the mangos!) came for a few days, we did a happy dance.  Literally.  In the rain after sitting on the porch in anticipation. In truth we were evacuated before the real  mango rain.  But it sprinkled for about 10 minutes, got our hopes up, and left a cloud of humidity deep and thick once.  

Kenya, at least Nairobi, doesn’t experience hot weather like that.  In fact, most of the year it it a downright perfect and pleasant climate.  Not too humid, not too hot or cold.  Rains sprinkled throughout even the dry season.  This year has been rough though.  Not enough rains came in the last rainy season.  (I think we are supposed to get two a year – one longer than the other) and the reserve is low.  We are on water rationing throughout the whole city.  Shawn plants and then we look at the poor little flowers just wanting to be watered.  We know that the rain will come and green will settle in to our tiny little paradise of a yard.  But even if it didn’t – it’s not life or death for us if our garden doesn’t grow.  But for many it is.  Farmers need the rains for their survival.  When the crops fail, prices go up for everyone.  You know the drill – we have the same thing in the States as far as the economy going up and down due to natural disasters.
But rain brings hope.  It brings newness, freshness.  Last night as we sat and watched clouds roll in (but no rain) Anna and I both said, “But I smell the rain!  It must be coming!”  Tonight it actually came.  A good soaking for  couple of hours!  Thunder and lightening and all the marvels of the power and beauty of nature.  When it comes after months of nothing – not even a drop – you burst with the miraculousness of it all.
Psalm 63:1
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
This week my own dry, parched, and weary soul felt the refreshing hope of the rain from Him.  After a time of wondering where God was and what was going on, a time of experiencing a crisis in my relationship with him, I have come out the other end guzzling down the springs of living water and life.  I feel like I can’t get enough.  Like my parched, shriveled soul is starting to plump back up and the dry, withered skin is becoming new and full again.
I am thankful God has taken me to places physically where I see his word played out right in front of me.  I am grateful that in my rebellious wandering he never stops relentlessly pursuing.  As I read The Broken Way by Ann Voskamp this morning I was reminded that I am filled to be poured out, not to store up and become stale.  So I pray in this season I allow him to pour out of me.  I ask for life from him that I might give it to others.  Like the final verse in the Desert Song:
“This is my prayer in the harvest
When favor and providence flow
I know I’m filled to be emptied again
The seed I’ve received I will sow.”

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