Spoken Word: Rain

I wrote this poem for a precious friend of mine. I hope it encourages you as well. Here’s the video of me sharing the poem at LifeLight, with the words to the poem below.

 

“I just want to enjoy the rain again,”

Says the woman who’s been drowning.

Momentary troubles lasting far too long

until they’ve seeped into every

crack and crevice of her once firm foundation

this level of saturation

seems hard to withstand

even while holding Jesus’ hand

because her arms are tired

of dangling off this cliff

of uncertainty

saying “I know God has good plans for me…

but what if He doesn’t?”

because, let’s face it,

happiness isn’t promised.

Joy and peace, yes,

but they’re hard to find in the stress

and the utter mess

that today has been.

Looking for a win

that lasts for a change

because right now

life. is. hard.

Perpetually slinging sandbags

trying to keep her head above the ocean

of depression

she finds herself standing in.

“This too shall pass,”

she says weakly

as she pours water out in buckets

only to watch more seep through.

What’s a girl to do

when it doesn’t seem to end?

“I just want to enjoy the rain again,”

says the woman who’s frustrated

inundated

with problems so trying

even raindrops seem terrifying

because they can lead to a flood.

These things meant for good,

for new life and growth and washing clean

seem

to have been

co-opted by fear.

So like a dear

in the headlights

she watches problems race forward,

calling on You, Lord,

to take these bitter raindrops and turn them into something sweet.

Meet

her here.

Make her confident she’ll see Your goodness

in the land of the living

giving

her grace to get through

each trial

all the while

she laughs at the future

like in Proverbs 31

Not sure if that’s from trusting

or just because she’s done

pretending to have any sanity remaining.

This, is draining

her of everything.

Praying without ceasing

releasing

her worries for the thousandth time.

While this night of weeping tarries

she longs to be the one who carries

sheaves of joy.

So be her Kinsman Redeemer

she knows that You are strong.

She’s running to the threshing floor

cover her in Your song

of deliverance and rescue.

Fixing her hope on You

she stands.

A broken down house

on a storm assaulted cliff.

Built firm on the Rock

but taking a beating

battered and wind-blown

still the fire inside burns brightly.

Like a lighthouse on a precarious coast

she shines

leading others toward safety.

And maybe

that’s the point of all this craziness.

To stand in the midst of the mess

so that she can point the way through

or to the One who

never fails.

So while the storm wails

she remembers

these waters are never beyond God’s control.

You see the whole

plan

even when we don’t understand.

She waits.

And You work.

Weaving it all together for good

meant to bring You glory.

This is her story:

that the Lord is present and active in her life.

Knowing this she waits,

for You and the dawn.

So like the sun blazing across the horizon

write Your reassurance in the sky.

This she calls to mind

and therefore she has hope:

that because of Your great love, Lord,

she is not consumed.

Your compassions never fail,

they are new each morning.

Great is Your faithfulness,

oh Lord who is her portion.

So she watches the rain, and waits.