Its been DRY. Really dry! The kind of dry where the ground parts, a cactus appears from nowhere, a tumbleweed rolls by, you feel like you're in the middle of the desert on a midsummer's day and sweat rolls relentlessly down your forehead. THEN, you're hit with the harsh reality that there’s NO WATER in sight. None. And the people here walk a few miles to get some from a water hole (if they're lucky!)

 That’s the way we were feeling this past week. It was icky and hadn’t rained—and it’s the rainy season.
So what do we do? We pray and we sing and we dance.
Vanessa brought out her guitar and we sang in the front yard, overlooking parts of Kigali. We sang songs about rain. Songs of prayer. Songs of yearning for the Lord to drench this place with water and His presence.
Sweet Lori, the pastor’s daughter, that’s 5, ran outside to dance with me. I twirled her in circles, and then picked her up and we danced around the yard.
And in that moment, it began to rain. It began to rain and we danced and we twirled around the yard, singing and praising God for the sweet rain.
Sometimes all it takes is faith and hope and love. These aren’t always the easiest things but they’re what I hold in the palms of my hands knowing if I have a grasp on these things, I’ll make it. And that moment encapsulated all of those things. And the heavens opened up and it rained exactly as we had prayed it would.
Just dance. Dance in the rain. Dance and praise God– even in the seemingly most difficult circumstances. Be amazed at what work he can and will do.
