Rain

Yesterday I finally rode some of our premeir bike trail, the Mickelson Trail. It runs from the northern Black Hills to the prairie in the south. Deadwood to Edgemont -110 miles of gentle slope and beautiful scenery.  And dust.

It hasn't rained, really soaked the earth for weeks. After our ride, my friend and I stood on my porch and wondered about the fire that is only fifteen miles away. The air is full of smoke and dust, my eyes are dry and itchy, the grass crackles under foot.  The hay crop has been dismal, no rain, no grass.  The irreverent have posted a sign, "Fire danger extremely high. Don't even fart in our woods."  We need rain.

And last night, it rained. I caught a whisper of the drops as they gathered and fell, releasing life to our land.  I held my breath and opened the door and the unmistakable fragrance of rain-laden air rushed into my cabin. Cool, even cold air was received with gratitude.  It's raining!

And all evening, I would open the door, step barefoot out onto the cold, smooth planks and sniff the air, listen for the gentle patter.  This was no Virginia gully washer, but neither was it a brief, tantalizing sprinkle we often get in the late afternoons out West.  This was a gentle replenishing of the parched earth.  A dry and thirsty ground.  A dry and weary land......

David knew dry and thirsty. His Psalms are full of the poetry of a desert dweller.

O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly; 

My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You, 

In a dry and weary land where there is no water. Psalm 63

Sing to God, sing praises to His name;
 Lift up a song for Him who rides through the deserts,
 Whose name is the Lord, and exult before Him.

5 

A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows,
Is God in His holy habitation.

6 

God makes a home for the lonely; 
He leads out the prisoners into prosperity,
Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land.

7 

O God, when You went forth before Your people,
When You marched through the wilderness, Selah.

8 

The earth quaked;
The heavens also dropped rain at the presence of God;
Sinai itself quaked at the presence of God, the God of Israel.

9 

You shed abroad a plentiful rain, O God;
You confirmed Your inheritance when it was parched. Psalm 68

He rides on the Clouds!
And in this one, He looks like a coho salmon!

And I've been dry and parched. Not just because my home is in drought but because my soul has been ignoring the rains from a good and mighty God.  The God who rides through the deserts- another version refers to Him as "One who rides on the clouds". 

He knows the earth He created, He knows it needs rain. He led those the captive into prosperity and for peoples who depend on the land for their sustinence, prosperity means watered crops and livestock. 

Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land- He allowed His beloved people to wander in the wilderness, a parched land if ever there was one.  Even there He went forth before His people and led them through.  And even that land quaked in awe and the heavens dropped rain at the presence of God. 

I have been soaking in the beauty and wonder of creation. It's everywhere around me.  But only superficially soaking in the beauty and the wonder of my Creator. It's easy to do.  But it is beginning to feel like I dwell in a parched land, my interior landscape as dry as my rain deprived pasture. 

So last night, the South Dakota earth received the rain and my soul received her King. 

  He shed abroad a plentiful rain and confirmed  (confirm- to establish the truth, accuracy, validity or genuiness of, corroborate, verify) my inheritance .... when it was parched. 

This morning the glorious clouds still linger.
The air is fresh.
We are revived. 

Let the rains come!