The other day an unwelcome spring storm hit on Mother’s Day. The unrelenting, harsh winds took my breath away and eroded the landscape. Where once feet securely took secure steps, the softened ground had collapsed and joined in the newly formed stream. Rain soaked the ground and flooded the seedlings trying to sprout. Flowers that had begun to bloom had their faces pushed toward the muddy ground that barely held them in place. And the picnic I had planned with my family was simply not going to happen. The storm was not what I wanted and yet it was part of the process of spring.
This morning, winds are gentle. Temperatures are comfortable. The rising sun promises a beautiful day full of opportunity to do what I want to do like take a comfortable walk, breath in the freshness of the land around me, and feel the warmth of possibility on my face. And this also is a part of the process of spring.
As a child on the playground, I remember swinging so high and then jumping from my high ascent to the ground. The joy in that accomplishment was short lived as the wooded seat of the swing propelled by momentum, came from behind me to hit me in the back and knock me face down in the dirt. That was my first experience of having the wind knocked out of me. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t make myself take a deep breath. The fact that my efforts couldn’t yield the results I needed, the results I wanted – frightened me. Yet as my teacher, seeing my distress, came over, she told me just to listen to her voice; that this will pass and all will be alright. She was correct. To listen and let go of my anxious state was not easy but it was necessary.
In my life, I have gone through seasons where I feel the wind has been knocked out of me. Seasons where the landscape was changed and it wasn’t a change I wanted. Times when all I could hear was the roar of the storm. And yet, it was necessary for God to remind me to trust Him and He would be my shelter until the winds died down and He could show me what he was doing around me. And while part of the land where I thought I was grounded had been washed away, a new way of moving and being emerged.
During that Mother’s Day storm, while the focus was on what the wind and waves took away, discoveries were also made. Along the beach, jetties that had been active in the 1950s were revealed. What had been forgotten once again acknowledged for its importance. See, a jetty is not only a protective barrier but connects the land with deeper water. Necessary purposes than become forgotten when out of view.
In the Bible, there are several references to the latter rains, which is actually what we would call spring rain (Deut. 11:13-15, Jere. 5:24, Hosea 6:3, Zech. 10:1, James 5:7). While there is a physical spring rain needed to bring the fields into full bloom, there is also a spiritual rain we need to pour down and change the landscape of our lives. In Joel 2:23, we read how the rains sent by God demonstrate His faithfulness.
Rejoice, you people of Jerusalem! Rejoice in the Lord your God!
For the rain he sends demonstrates his faithfulness.
Once more the autumn rains will come, as well as the rains of spring. Joel 2:23
According to some scholars, the “early rain” refers to the first Pentecost where God’s Holy Spirit was poured out on all people and the “latter rain” refers to a future move of the Holy Spirit being poured out in an unusual way for revival and restoration. It is also important to note that only a few verses down begin the sermon shared by Peter at the first Pentecost (Joel 2: 28-32, Acts 2:17-21).
At the first Pentecost, God gave birth the church as a body of believers who would go out – soaked by the outpouring of the Spirit – to be the real time hands and feet of the Lord by healing, blessing, encouraging, and sharing the hope found in Jesus. A hope that is necessary on our sunny days and on our stormy days. A hope that can restore our spiritual breathing when the harsh winds of life knock us down. A hope that can take the deluge and bring us into deliverance and restoration through grace. It was a hope that some embraced and others fought against. But it was necessary for a new way of moving and being in the Spirit to emerge.
Spring rains bring the hope that revival and restoration is coming. And we need the new breath, new growth, new birth of possibilities we can not make happen in our church, in our culture, in our world. We need the landscape to be changed. We need to get the wind knocked out of us on occasion so we stop speaking and can begin listening to the Good and Faithful Teacher. We need to get soaked with the healing outpouring of the Holy Spirit in a way we’ve never experienced. But remember, spring rains are not easy and often not welcomed but are so necessary.
As I walk around today surveying the damage of that storm from a couple of weeks ago, I am thankful. Thankful that even as the thunder drowned out all other sounds, even as the driving rain changed the landscape, and even as the storm changed my plans that day, the ground may have moved and the scene looked different but the sun did come out and it was alright.
Psalm 91:2 says “ I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.” So, when the skies darken and the wind and rains howl in life, lean in to the Master for safety and trust in His promise. For He will make all things new.