When holy rain falls in the desert

I slip outside, pack slung on a shoulder, coffee in hand, and I sit. Before me, it spreads. Three acres, often sunny, where birds call, squirrels dash, rabbits hop, flowers bloom. I sit, and I savor. God’s here in the breeze, in the sounds of the creatures. I see Him, too, in cardinal’s red slash perched atop white picnic table.

And then comes the rain. Skies low’ring o’er The Three are opening up, and the rain, it comes down. Tucked safe ‘neath the roof, I am taking it in. The smell of fresh air being cleansed by the rain. Liquid-life drops, all falling to ground. The pitter and patter of Heaven’s revival, and the land opening up to receive it.

Friend Jesus is here. I know it. I feel it, and so I say it aloud from my place of sweet safety: “Talk to me about rain.”

“Isaiah 35.” That quick comes the whisper. So, reaching into my pack, I draw it out, holy lamp, bread of life, and I find it.

“The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom.”

Ah, Lord. There is life in the desert? Yes! There’s life in the desert, and the wilderness will blossom, rejoicing. Redemption, in the desert. And joy in the dry place. When rain, holy rain, it falls down.

“Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.’”

Ears and heart are all listening, ready like a sponge to receive it. Having come through a desert, walking through to its border, this is water, liquid-life drops a-falling. For God comes in the desert. Comes to save, to deliver. Right there where you are in the dry lands.

I’m hungry and thirsty, lifting cup straight to lips. For Father’s got more on our deserts. It’s a ‘then,’ glorious THEN, the big things that happen when Father sends rain in the desert. The blind eyes can see. The deaf ears can hear, lame leap, and the mute shout for joy. In the desert!

Water gushes forth, and the streams spring up wild. There are pools, things growing, and…a highway.

“And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness.” No unclean can walk there, and no dangerous beasts. Only the redeemed and the ransomed returning.

I thought of me, and I thought of you. You who, too, walk in deserts. Who are barren and dry. Who are parched for clear water and for guidance. God is speaking to me, and He’s speaking to you.

“Strengthen the feeble hands. Steady wobbly knees. Be strong. Do not fear. God will come.”  

God will come, and the rain. One day, your desert shall blossom. Streams of water and pools, thirsty ground bubbling up springs. And a highway for you to walk safely, Way of Holiness.

Walk there, then, in safety. Walk there, fully trusting. For His way leads straight on to Heaven.

“Only the redeemed will walk there, and the ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. Isa. 35:10.”