The Rain is Over

Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
    and come away,
for behold, the winter is past;
    the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
    the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
    is heard in our land.
The fig tree ripens its figs,
    and the vines are in blossom;
    they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
    and come away.
O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
    in the crannies of the cliff,
let me see your face,
    let me hear your voice,
for your voice is sweet,
    and your face is lovely.
Catch the foxes for us,
    the little foxes
that spoil the vineyards,
    for our vineyards are in blossom.” Song of Solomon 2:10-15

The winter of wet and storms is part of life’s seasons, and its bleakness sets the magnificent backdrop for the glories of song and blossom that follow. Just as the dawn after a thunderstorm rises with fresher air and brighter green, so the mercies of God appear lush and fragrant the other side of hardship and heartbreak. An upended life, misfortunes over which we have no control, cause wrangling and weeping that endure for a night, yet joy, and word of God’s unfailing love, come in the morning. We can with certain hope expect God to swallow the temporary dark in His blazing, glorious sun.  (Psalm 30:5; 143:8; Lamentations 3:22-23)

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Would we recognize the intricacies of God’s mercies were it not for storms? Would our senses gasp at the rich colors of spring, the regal painted blossoms with velvety petals, were they not against dark soil? The Lover of our souls bids us come away from sloshing in grey despair to behold the varied hues of His deeper love and grace. See the blooms and smell their fragrance? Hear the birds’ melody? Taste the ripe figs? Ah, what a feast He prepares when we lift our faces to Him and eschew the little nipping foxes that would hold us back.

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace,
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep;
We pray for healing, for prosperity,
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering.
All the while, You hear each spoken need,
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things…

What if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near;
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love,
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough?

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise?”  ~Laura Story (Blessings)

Loving Father, thank You for rain, from which You purpose to bring only unfathomable, divine good. Let me never settle for lesser things, from wallowing in coddling puddles. Draw me away from the pests of self-focus and pity to soar and sing and take full delight in You.

 

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