As the weather warms, Deb and I are resuming our walks. It hasn’t rained in a few weeks and the paths are looking quite weathered. I found the cracks interesting, the outer crusty layers breaking open. It’s as if the earth below is preparing to receive, opening up for the coming spring rains.
I’ve been enjoying a season of comfort, and increasing peace. Despite the challenges of carrying Brent through this past year, the ongoing atrophy of a war that continues to hurt those we care about, and processing my mom’s cancer diagnosis, hope is emerging again in the depths of our soul.
Outwardly, I think I still look like this cracking dirt.
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad;
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
Here is your God…. He will come and save you
Isaiah 35:1,4
When Jesus came, he brought heaven’s rain upon the arid hearts of humanity. The thirsty, they will drink, and be made new again. Today, God’s Spirit is our promise. We are filled, and strengthened. Though we are weighed down, sometimes with burdens beyond our abilities to bear, I’m grateful for the hope in the coming rains.
I’m not yet blossoming, I still hurt. I’m not quite rejoicing, I still grieve. Yet, my heart is open to the kindness and mercy of my God. Fill us, Lord, we who are parched, thirsty, and opening up to you today.