It hasn't rained here in several weeks, which reminded me of this devotional that I wrote two years ago.
THE BLESSINGS OF DROUGHT
Jeremiah 14:22
Are there any among the idols of the nations that can cause rain? Or can the heavens give showers? Are You not He, O Lord our God? Therefore we will wait for You, Since You have made all these.
The sun rises and the sun sets. Like clockwork, mathematical, precisely predictable and dependable, the sun comes up in the east and sets in the west. There is never any question that we will be granted the blessings of the sun.
The rain falls and the droughts come, but without any predictability. No mortal knows when the showers will come, or when the blessings of the rain will be withheld.
Last year we had an incredible drought, the worst one that I can remember. I lost a lot of plants in my beloved gardens, including many that are considered "drought-tolerant." I won't know the full extent of the damage to my beloved gardens until this summer, when anything that survived will sprout again.
It will be hard for me to face the loss of some of my plants. There is more in my garden than just green things; it holds a record of my memories as well. I guess one shouldn't get emotionally involved with vegetation, but some of those things were brought across many miles from my childhood home.
Almost every plant in that bed invokes happy memories of home. They remind of joyful summers spent playing in the yard with my family and friends. The violets are progeny of the ones we gathered on a family walk in the woods, and the cranesbills were transplanted from the bed behind our garage. The variegated dogwood is identical to the one that sheltered our Barbie dolls from the July sun. The spiderworts nurtured my scientific curiosity by turning pink when I dipped them in vinegar. The irises are from my Grandma's garden, planted there by her decades ago when the house was new. When I look at my garden, I can recall every summery smell, every birdsong, every squeak of the swing chain straining on its hooks. Some people make scrapbooks full of pictures, but my heirlooms are alive.
Sunday, I peered out my window into the bed where most of these heirlooms struggled so hard to survive last summer. Though I could see little green shoots here and there, I despaired of ever seeing the more delicate sprouts again. Goodbye columbine from North Bay! So long spiderworts from Dad's back porch! Goodbye cherished record of my childhood!
Looking for solace in my devotions, I came across I Corinthians 13:11, "When I was a child I talked like a child, I understood like a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish ways...And what I have kept is faith, hope and love, only these three, and the greatest of these is love."
The words "put away" and "kept" resonated in my heart. Some things from childhood are meant to be put away, others are meant to be kept. Those things which holds us back from growing into adulthood, such as childish thinking, must be tossed out, but other things, like faith, hope and love, which will encourage our growth, must be retained.
Instantly, Romans 8:28 popped into my head. "And we know that God works all things together for good, according to His purpose, for them who are 'The Called'."
Although I don't think for a second that God created the drought for my benefit, I do believe that He uses situations and circumstances, even harmful ones, to refine us. I believe that He is using the loss of my precious plants to teach me a lesson I have been reluctant to learn: Memories can hold us prisoner to the past like a ball and chain. To fully experience maturity and adulthood, I must let go of my history, even the happy memories of childhood, and live abundantly in the present. I must be willing to experience happiness in the here and now, and not cling to what I miss. I can enjoy my memories of Grandma's house, and still love my house, too. Equally, I must put away any unhappy memories that keep me bound. I no longer need to fear the disapproval of my kindergarten teacher, or the temper tantrums of my first boyfriend. Now that I am a woman, I must put away these childish ways.
Although it may have damaged my garden, the drought caused my soul to grow.
And I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on my name, and I will hear them: I will say, It is my people: and they shall say, The LORD is my God. Zechariah 13:9
THE BLESSINGS OF DROUGHT
Jeremiah 14:22
Are there any among the idols of the nations that can cause rain? Or can the heavens give showers? Are You not He, O Lord our God? Therefore we will wait for You, Since You have made all these.
The sun rises and the sun sets. Like clockwork, mathematical, precisely predictable and dependable, the sun comes up in the east and sets in the west. There is never any question that we will be granted the blessings of the sun.
The rain falls and the droughts come, but without any predictability. No mortal knows when the showers will come, or when the blessings of the rain will be withheld.
Last year we had an incredible drought, the worst one that I can remember. I lost a lot of plants in my beloved gardens, including many that are considered "drought-tolerant." I won't know the full extent of the damage to my beloved gardens until this summer, when anything that survived will sprout again.
It will be hard for me to face the loss of some of my plants. There is more in my garden than just green things; it holds a record of my memories as well. I guess one shouldn't get emotionally involved with vegetation, but some of those things were brought across many miles from my childhood home.
Almost every plant in that bed invokes happy memories of home. They remind of joyful summers spent playing in the yard with my family and friends. The violets are progeny of the ones we gathered on a family walk in the woods, and the cranesbills were transplanted from the bed behind our garage. The variegated dogwood is identical to the one that sheltered our Barbie dolls from the July sun. The spiderworts nurtured my scientific curiosity by turning pink when I dipped them in vinegar. The irises are from my Grandma's garden, planted there by her decades ago when the house was new. When I look at my garden, I can recall every summery smell, every birdsong, every squeak of the swing chain straining on its hooks. Some people make scrapbooks full of pictures, but my heirlooms are alive.
Sunday, I peered out my window into the bed where most of these heirlooms struggled so hard to survive last summer. Though I could see little green shoots here and there, I despaired of ever seeing the more delicate sprouts again. Goodbye columbine from North Bay! So long spiderworts from Dad's back porch! Goodbye cherished record of my childhood!
Looking for solace in my devotions, I came across I Corinthians 13:11, "When I was a child I talked like a child, I understood like a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish ways...And what I have kept is faith, hope and love, only these three, and the greatest of these is love."
The words "put away" and "kept" resonated in my heart. Some things from childhood are meant to be put away, others are meant to be kept. Those things which holds us back from growing into adulthood, such as childish thinking, must be tossed out, but other things, like faith, hope and love, which will encourage our growth, must be retained.
Instantly, Romans 8:28 popped into my head. "And we know that God works all things together for good, according to His purpose, for them who are 'The Called'."
Although I don't think for a second that God created the drought for my benefit, I do believe that He uses situations and circumstances, even harmful ones, to refine us. I believe that He is using the loss of my precious plants to teach me a lesson I have been reluctant to learn: Memories can hold us prisoner to the past like a ball and chain. To fully experience maturity and adulthood, I must let go of my history, even the happy memories of childhood, and live abundantly in the present. I must be willing to experience happiness in the here and now, and not cling to what I miss. I can enjoy my memories of Grandma's house, and still love my house, too. Equally, I must put away any unhappy memories that keep me bound. I no longer need to fear the disapproval of my kindergarten teacher, or the temper tantrums of my first boyfriend. Now that I am a woman, I must put away these childish ways.
Although it may have damaged my garden, the drought caused my soul to grow.
And I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried: they shall call on my name, and I will hear them: I will say, It is my people: and they shall say, The LORD is my God. Zechariah 13:9
