sun shower

this morning, like the real, working-from-home adult that I am, I sat on my screened in back porch to sift through unread emails, unanswered texts, and an endless to-do list. the scene was perfect: sun shining, birds singing, overhead fans circulating a warm and gentle breeze…in a word, picturesque. And as I sat overlooking both my computer screen and the construction behind my house, one of my favorite marvels happened. though the sky was brilliantly blue and the sun was shining, it began to rain. gentle, steady and over nearly as quickly as it began.

and as I watched the drops of rain fall like tiny diamonds in the sun, I felt my eyes fill with tears. not the overwhelmed-with-COVID kind of tears, but good, genuine, deep, heart tears.

at the risk of sounding dramatic, the last 2 years have felt like a long, hot Indian summer.
the kind that stretches deep into October and leaves all that was once green and lush, looking scorched and tired.

I have felt like that scorched earth, drying out underneath the intense, hot rays of disappointment, frustration, uncertainty, fear and shame brought on by my inability to fix all the things or “get over it” or regain whatever control I feel has been lost.
For what feels like forever, i’ve turned my eyes from circumstance to circumstance, expecting that one of these days a storm will pass through, bringing relief to my weary world. our weary world.
but the chaos has persisted. the sun has continued to beat.
around each corner, what I thought would be a change for the better, has all too often turned out to be another ache, another disappointment, another unknown, another long, hot day.

the reality is that the world is aching and feels chaotic and in ways that are big and small I too have carried an ache.
I feel like i’ve spent the better part of the last 24 months looking to the sky and begging God for change.
telling myself (quite convincingly) that if just one circumstance could change, if I could just get one “win” in the books, it would color my whole world differently. that the grass could grow again.
i’ve begged and pleaded and waffled between what I thought was deep trust and inexplicable frustration, wondering all the while what I could possibly do differently or better in order to garner the response from the Lord that I am looking for.

I hate it, but I still find myself getting so stuck in conditional trust. conditional love.
my sinful cycle of “if I give God this, He will give me that”.
but God’s most gracious, most generous, most beneficial, most blessed answer, has consistently been “no”.
my renewal has to come through suffering.
if I really believe Jesus, which I do, then my suffering , your suffering, the suffering of the black community, the suffering of the marginalized, the suffering of the world at large, can’t lead to death…it can’t be the end.
eventually the long, hot days become so desperate that we no longer ask for a fan or an umbrella or even a sprinkler.
none of those will do.
this Indian summer calls me to beg for a summer rain.

God’s heart for the suffering of His children is consistent and true.
whether it’s His ache over my personal disappointments, my heart of sadness over a life that, though good and full, just really isn't what I had expected.
or his brokenness over the pride, fear and privilege that leads brother to murder brother, and one skin tone to elevate itself over another.
His ache, His care, His grief and His answer are all the same…
Himself.
more of Him.
only Him.

He is the living water.
His suffering gave us access.
our suffering gives us the humility to ask.
but in the end is life.

may we all sit in the shimmering drops of Him.
may we all let His shower drench our weary souls and give us strength to delight in another day of sun.