Some days are breathless, just like the end of a hot, record-breaking, parched, and dusty Texas summer. I feel claustrophobic from the stresses of life. I can’t breathe. I’m lethargic. I’m uninspired. I can’t see any way forward, blinded by the dusty dry air.
Then a single drop of rain splats on the parched ground. Poof! A speck of mud appears.
Then a series of staccato raindrops follow, one right after the other: one drop, a phone call from a friend; a scattering of drops, the grandchildren stop by just because; more drops, a good lab report from the doctor; a passing shower, a neighbor joins me in the garden to share cuttings, seeds, and rootings.
These raindrops are enough to reboot and refocus my thirsty mind for the day. I almost feel like a productive person again with the promise of more life-giving rain which is sure to drop on those in my surrounding life-garden.
My prayer is that I’m not like the empty cloud in the book of Jude verse 12, passing over thirsty relationships. Instead, I want to be the person who on any given day, can squeeze out at least a drop of rain to give hope to another.
What is one drop of rain, one blessing, that you can name today?
These men, are shepherds who take care of themselves. They are clouds carried away by the wind without giving rain, trees that in season bear no fruit, dead twice over and pulled up by the roots.