Our part of Kansas is dry! I am talking so dry that if you speak snake lingo, the cotton-mouths are…well…cotton-mouthed. You would have a better chance of water skiing in the Sahara. Farmers are cranky. The water meter spins like the tumblers on a slot machine. The weather men give themselves pep talks in the green room mirror before pitching the forecast because they know their news is bleak. Fields are being reformed into drifts, filling ditches reminiscant of Dirty 30’s images. Our pepper plants have been so wind-whipped that they look like wilted little sticks that raspily call out “water” as we drag another hose their direction. Church bulletins and email loops have “RAIN!” in all caps, as people remind each other constantly of the need of some favor from above.
If it would rain, the land would be like a giant Shamwow and soak up every drop. None would be wasted. We can water ourselves crazy, but nothing is like that little bit of moisture from heaven to green the scene here.
Yesterday a chance of rain teased it’s way into the forecast. Dust clouds are all we have received lately, so no one took it much to heart. Even the overcast skies couldn’t talk us into getting too excited, but a glimmer of hope started to revive. Conversations started swirling around about what the meterologists might know afterall, and the weather websites lit up with a few more hits.
Sitting at my work desk, with my back to the window, I swiveled around to discover crystal trails running down my window. Hope was partying on the glass in front of my face!
“It’s raining! It’s really raining!” I exclaimed to the caller, who works a block away from me.
“It is?” the tone of disbelief was unmistakable.
“Run out and see!” We hung up.
One of my partners in crime, work, and friendship, Cheryl sashayed by my office about that time.
“It’s raining!” I alerted her in my best Paul Revere impression.
“I know! I heard it and it smells so good!”
I jumped up and said “Let’s go smell it!” We jetted to the door and threw it open to drink in that fresh aroma and fill our lungs. The rain was falling softly, but our spirits were anything but calm.
Knowing that Sharla, the secretary, was on the phone, and her office faced the courtyard, I proposed “Let’s go dance in it!” It didn’t take any arm twisting. Cheryl was out the door and her dancing took on more of a ballet style as she piroeted and leaped. I stuck with the classic Gene Kelly tap dancy thing. Sharla sat inside, throughly entertained and possibly a little jealous. Giggles fox-trotted out of all of us.
We really didn’t get much in the way of moisture, but we celebrated every bit of the wet stuff.
What poured in us was a fresh dose of hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who he has given us. Romans 5:5. Even in the longest dryest drought, hope is our oasis.
There is a slight chance of rain in the extended forecast on several occasions this week. The prayers and thanksgivng continue with spirits filled with hope.
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1
For fun here’s the link to watch Gene Kelly’s famous scene: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7QL46cK7B8&feature=related