he rains

I've got a few confessions this morning. There's a good chance you'll never find me in a small box (I'm claustrophobic), confessing all my deepest and darkest secrets to a priest (I'm not Catholic, or very traditional), so I've decided to use this handy, little piece of technology instead.

I'm sure you've heard about the fires in Colorado. If you haven't, you live under a rock (which has its perks, I'm telling you). But all you have to do is pull up any web browser or newspaper and you'll be all caught up. My heart has been incredibly heavy this week, watching sky-high flames swallow cities and homes and forests in Colorado. It aches for the trees and mountains--all of God's beautiful creation--that is being consumed by fire and smoke. It aches for the people who have been forced out of their homes, away from their comfort, and into shelters and uncertainty. It even aches for the animals in the forests that are probably terrified and running for their lives, and the horses and livestock, cats and dogs, that are all being uprooted and may not even know why.

I have absolutely zero focus here at work--which has been the case all week. My greatest desire is to be down there, in the Springs, helping people in the shelters, giving away my clothes and towels and items, and letting go of my own safety to provide a little for others. Whether this is my calling into missions one day (or this weekend), I'll have to see. Stay tuned...

And just the other day, I must have spent every moment praying for rain. I begged and pleaded for relief for the firefighters, I begged and pleaded for the fires to be brought to a halt, and I begged and pleaded for healing on those mountains. The devastation was already so great, people were already so afraid, and I couldn't stand the thought of that continuing. I saw the clouds roll in, covering all the earth (earth in my sight, anyway), but felt no precipitation. I continued to beg.

Then, I was driving home, looking at all the smoke pouring onto homes and buildings, and a drop fell. Then another. Then four more. Then thousands.

It was raining.

It was raining so much that my windshield wipers were on full speed, and still I was having trouble driving home.

Because I was crying.

No, I was sobbing. It was raining and I was crying. Somewhere deep inside, I started to believe that no mattered how much any of us prayed, there wouldn't be any rain. The forecast said 100 degrees and 0% chance for rain, so how could I think we might have a cool, rainy day? Then I looked down at the thermostat in my car; 74 degrees.

We—I pray for really big things. I'm told that my God is great and big and powerful, so I pray for things that only a God of that size could bring, but my feeble heart still thinks it's impossible. But it was raining. !!!

And all of the weather reports and media headlines and naysayers are walking around, blaring through radios and televisions that we'll see no relief in the next week, 100 degree days for as long as we can see, and wildfires will be imminent this summer.

And I'm refusing to listen.

I watched it pour the other day, and I watched barometers drop below 80 degrees. I cried because I knew God was saying, "I am here, I hear you, and I will help you in times of need." I believe that He is greater and stronger and more powerful than any fire, any weather pattern, and any news story that has made itself known. In fact, I prayed for snow this morning.

My point is this; pray for great, big things because we have a great, big God. I know people who, have told me a million times they don't know if they believe in God, are now on their knees, praying. I know a couple who separated recently, and are now finding comfort in one another's arms in the midst of devastation. I know God brings great things out of awful things, and I know that He is listening to our pleas and prayers.

Whatever fire is raging in your life today, pray for great healing, pray for big miracles. Pray for the rain and pray for the snow. God has never guaranteed that all things will magically fix when you speak to Him, but He has promised to be in control, to hold you in His hands, and to rain down showers of joy and love and comfort in your greatest times of need.