Not long ago, I was wishing we’d get some rain. It had been such a long, dry spell that typically hardy plants were beginning to complain like plants do—drooping here, changing colors there. I can’t say that plants whine, but if they could, some had reached that point. Now, it’s been a complete turnaround. In recent weeks, we’ve had more rain than most of our plants know what to do with! The grass around the church has been happier than usual, and everything is green, from the resurrection ferns on the trees to the marsh grasses. It’s amazing what a little rain can do.
Dry seasons and wet seasons just go in cycles, I suppose. As Ecclesiastes (and the song by which most of us learned it) goes, there is a time for every season. We heard from Ecclesiastes on Sunday, too. “Vanities of vanities, everything is vanity,” was how our first lesson began. It skipped the verse in that first chapter, which reminds us that there is nothing new under the sun. The writer of Ecclesiastes is big on cycles and the mysteries of things like rain and dry weather. As it points out, the rivers run to the sea, but the sea never gets full! I don’t know about the sea, but I know the ponds along the Sea Palms golf course fairways were about as full as they could get this past weekend.
Those cycles are similar to what the writer of Isaiah refers to in the passage many of us know best as Canticle Ten, the Second Song of Isaiah at Morning Prayer. The writer describes the cycle of rain falling and returning to heaven and compares it to God’s word, which does not return to God empty, but accomplishes the purposes of God before somehow making the trip back. Is God’s word a holy boomerang of sorts? It is like the rain that waters the earth and brings forth life and growth, and then mysteriously (though not if we studied water cycles in earth science classes) ends up back in the sky to fall once again.
Some places get rain almost constantly, like rainforests. Other places seldom see rain, such as a desert. Most of us live in ecosystems somewhere in between the two. Some days and seasons are just wetter than others, although we live on the rainier side of the spectrum, especially this time of year. Neither rain forest nor desert is bad or good, and to live in either extreme takes adaptation. Or the ability to manage extremes. We can pack dry socks for a hike through the Amazon region, and extra canteens for a trip to Death Valley. Nonetheless, the extremes can catch us off guard.
Sometimes our lives are showered with blessings and an ease of communion with God. At other times, our prayer lives are parched, and we yearn for the flowing streams of the water of life. We don’t really worry about living in a prolonged period of abundance, but those dessert sojourns can be pretty trying. Jesus certainly knew about such wilderness experiences, having been cast into the desert at times. The good news for us is remembering that the nature of the abundant blessing of God’s refreshing waters, Jesus himself being living water, is that there is always enough for us. Making our way to it may be challenging at times. We might feel like Jesus at the well without a way to draw the water.
There are many ways to meet God and feel the rain of God’s love falling on us. Unfortunately, we sometimes have to work at it to find those experiences. Sometimes our prayers feel like rain dances – we’re doing a lot of work hoping that the clouds will form around us, but nothing seems to come of it. All I can say is that we have to keep at it. If one way of meeting God isn’t working, we can always try another. There are many forms of prayer to choose from. The Contemplative Well at Christ Church is one of the ways that we provide some of those prayer outlets to help us manage or even ward off the parched moments of our lives with God. Meeting God can be as simple as sitting silently and letting God do all the work. I know that’s not always easy for me. Sometimes I’m trying so hard to meet God, I’m not actually listening or open to anything coming to me.
It's normal to cycle through rainy and dry spells in our prayer life. Everyone experiences them now and then. When we do and begin to sag and droop, when our regular routines aren’t working, it might be time to try something new. We can hear from others who have found the rains that fall from heaven and make a trip there with them to see for ourselves. You can always ask me, any of our clergy, or anyone you know who seems to have found a way to connect with God, for some advice, or just to listen to what your dry spell feels like. It won’t sound like whining. Maybe one of us will have an idea that can assist you. It can’t hurt, and it will probably help. But if you try something new, pack some dry socks, just in case. It’s amazing what a little rain can do.
