James 5:18, Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.

I saw the bright yellow bus coming up the road, so I made a mad dash across the street and stood with the small gathering in wait. A lovely neighbour of mine approached me with the look of wonder plastered upon her brightly shining face. She shared with me a most incredible tale.

While worshipping in church yesterday, the congregation was singing a particular worship song that spoke of allowing God to wash us in rain- the raining of the Holy Spirit. She felt The Lord drop these words into her heart:

I want to rain on my people but they need to take down their umbrella. My rain cannot get to where they need it most for their umbrella blocks it.

She shared with me that the umbrella of which He spoke could represent anything that we put between ourselves and God. She illuminated joy from within as she ministered to my heart. I took the moment to look into her eyes and speak truth that I appreciated her sharing her heart with mine.

Oh, heavens sweet rains. I understand their power for I have prayed many a time to be washed by the outpour of the Holy Spirit. It is the sweet rains of heaven that produce the sweetest of fruit in a land that is barren. It is the sweet rains of heaven that bring everlasting life to a wayward soul like mine.

Not long after we parted ways from the sidewalk, my eldest daughter had run over to another neighbours home to play for an hour. That hour passed rapidly, so I gathered my jacket to make my way over to collect my child. I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch only to come face to face with a cold and steady rain.

I went back inside and rummaged through the large basket by the door to find my umbrella. Then, armed with my umbrella in hand, I trotted my way down the street feeling the wetness of the rain slowly seep through my shoes.

While walking back home, my daughter scooted up next to me and asked for my umbrella. I looked at my child, thought upon my neighbours words, and decided I was already getting wet so I might as well walk in the rain.

Father, thank you for your rains- how refreshing is their washing on a worn-out soul. Thank you for your Spirit that desires to pour out on us where we need it the most. And thank you Jesus for reaching out, taking ahold of our umbrella, and carrying its burden for us. Amen.

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