When the rain sweeps in, nothing really matters and isn’t this how it should be when God shows up?
I peer excitedly out the window, because we have been needing this so badly; farmers everywhere in Iowa just praying for a little rain because God is the One, they know, Who holds each drop of Living water.
“The corn is starting to curl,” the neighbor told me yesterday, shaking his head in worry as I stared at the dusty crops out the window of my office and prayed.
So now, as I press my face against the glass at the world being made new, I think about the wrinkled face of the neighbor and how he must be grinnin’ wide like only God can make a person grin.
This giddiness burns within me and the rain beckons, begging playfully for me to run wild into its embrace and be made new also.
A voice rolls smooth, then louder, from the skies.
As if on queue, lightening dances in the cornfield across from where I sit, flashing like God is taking a picture of His beloved so I clutch my dog a little closer and smile big.
I flip on the lamps, soft orbs of light on the carpet and it’s warm here, in my heart, so I relax and pick up the newspaper, all cozied up in my La-Z-Boy in this little house with the candles flickering.
God is near.
Nothing else matters.
But the news says otherwise: Obama supports gay marriages. Another politician says he doesn’t. A picture of a sign by the road says abortion stops a beating heart. A teenage girl says she stopped a heart because she was raped. A lady found in a puddle of blood over love gone bad. Four killed because they stood for their religious beliefs.
I lay the the newspaper on my lap and stare out the window, watching the puddles form in the road and think about when God finally shows up, none of this will matter.
So I put away the dirty of the world and just focus on washing away my own because we are all so desperately in need of a God who can cleanse and make new and remind us… nothing else matters.