When I was in Paramaribo, Suriname, I got a warning word from the Lord : a dry season is coming.
It was one of those things you hear, but you pretend you didn’t. Even when you write it down subconsciously, you don’t want to acknowledge it. I felt the blood drain from my entire body when I realized the promise wasn’t going anywhere.
Sure, things were hard and living in a season where our whole purpose was asking the Lord to help us pioneer the next three countries is enough to intimidate anyone. But I was dreading the eminent threat, another winter, another valley.
When my flesh screams, it’s hard for me to remember there is beauty in the trial ; when I feel as if it is one test after another after another and there doesn’t seem to be rest, I don’t always want to push through, I want to stop and just sit. Be still.
And so I waited for the winds to hit. I know being in French Guiana was the Lord preparing my heart for what was to come. Having lived in France for some time and discovering a lot of who I am there, the country was a piece of Heaven for me, a refreshment for my spirit. God was giving me peace, lifting me up and boosting my confidence.
But the desert did overtake me, a wall of sand hit my chest so hard our second night in Brazil, when Trenton, my fiancé, and I, ended our engagement and broke up for good.
No amount of preparation of the heart or previous discernment about a situation can save you from the heartache of an ended promise. We had grown apart and wanted different things and I projected what I thought I needed onto a man who loved to the very best of his abilities.
That was the night I began to walk in the desert, chasing after the fleeting steps of the Lord, seeking redemption and forgiveness for my sins against love and a heart sinking in despair.
It’s now been almost a month since we broke up and lately, I’ve been feeling restless. Eager for the rain, for the storm.
When a storm is coming, the animals begin to fidget, they get antsy – restless. That’s how my spirit and soul are feeling, anxious for the downpour. Up until yesterday, I thought the rain meant everything would be better, or at least be on that track.
I hit another dune, higher than ever before in this desert. I was in a place where I felt betrayed and I didn’t see how I could ever trust someone again. Mix that with concern for someone you love, an aching desire to protect them and a fleshly jealousy – the sands loomed over me and the sun was bearing down. I couldn’t imagine making it up the hill – I was just so tired. Every part of me is so tired.
And today it rained. It poured here in Manaus, Brazil. All of a sudden, the streets were flooding and while every part of my body was aching, my insides were buzzing to step out into the rain.
So I ran. I stepped out and let the water hit me until I was soaking wet. I walked and let my Dad speak into me about the rain.
You see, I wasn’t waiting for the rain. I was waiting for after the rain – the pretty rainbow and the birds singing again ; the fresh leaves twinkling with rejuvenated life.
Corrie, the rain isn’t always comfortable. People hide from the thunderstorms that bring life to the earth. My flood is constant, unending. I want to pour out my waters to bring you back to life, back to love, back to me. I was only waiting for you to step out.
Be encouraged – in the valleys, in the lightning and the thunder, in the deafening ache of your bones that reaches to the very marrow. God promises beautiful things are in store. All He asks is that we trust him.
#praise #welcometheseason #welcometheflood #goodfathertour #WRexpedition #11n11 #revelation #rain #noshamenovember #shebrews #heisonlygood
