Face towards the rain I feel it land on eyes, cheeks, lips.
Upward, I smile. My hair, holding on to this holy water
begins to release me of pretense. I relax as it drips down
my neck. The rain continues steady and sure. God present
in the rain speaks loving words. He woos me and draws me
closer, the distant rumble of thunder behind darkened clouds
is a low bellow of jealousy for me. He is jealous for me.
He wants me. He loves me, and beneath the heavily-laden
clouds He whispers, reminding me of that dream I had one night.
Too long ago:
Walking into a room of blinding perfection, The King asks me what
I would like. Anything, and it is yours. Had I been clever, I would’ve
asked for the same as Solomon. But standing there in His presence,
speaking the only thing my trembling heart could utter– Sing for me.
It was the words of Zephaniah:
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
Rising into the air, I couldn’t hear a song with my ears, but I was filled
and emptied and filled again. Water running in me, and through me,
and out of me. Pouring from my head, hands, and feet.
He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said,
‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’
In that dream, He pours out His love. He has given Himself
to me again and again. He has soaked me in His love,
fought to save me, and He rejoices in me like a Bridegroom
rejoices in His Bride. He has called me His Beloved. This love of God
quiets the stealing thoughts, erases my wanderings, and steadies
my heart. The pursuing rain, now more urgent, drenches me to the skin.
A yearning for communion. He is relentless in His love.
Standing in the middle of my yard, unaware of anything else,
I hear the impassioned thunder. Perhaps the beating of His heart.
Awakened to the holy mysteries in drops of rain, I want to bring
Him joy. What can I give? I have nothing to offer. How do I give
myself fully in this moment? Every moment. To be joined to Him
in the mystical union. Water flows over me like tender kisses.
The Lover of my soul, the One I adore, whispers sweetly to me.
Face skyward in the rain, praise and adoration for the Lord
overwhelm my saturated spirit. My worship cannot be contained.
Love for Him cannot be contained. Standing there in His presence,
I respond in a way my heart can understand. I sing to Him,
a love song. A song for Him alone.