Waiting For Rain

Drought Continues in Papua New Guinea
Houses no longer standing in water in the town of Kerema, Papua New Guinea
 (Aris Messinis)
Photo from http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/breakfast/png-drought/6975594
     When you read the Bible do you ever put yourself in the character's shoes? I do. It helps me to make the Bible more real to me and really internalize what it's saying.

     For instance, take the story of Elijah praying for rain after 3 years of drought on the mountain top. He had been told to present himself to King Ahab -- the same king he'd been hiding from for the last 3 years -- only then would the Lord God (Yahweh) again send rain on Israel. Elijah had come and boldly presented himself to the king. On top of that, he'd challenged all the prophets of the false god Baal to a knock-down-drag-out contest of who was the true god -- Baal or Yahweh. Baal never showed up but Yahweh, the God of Israel, showed up in a big way consuming not only Elijah's sacrifice but also the wood, stones, soil and water that was around or under the sacrifice. Talk about a crazy amazing experience. The quintessence of a mountain top experience.

    Now, Elijah is standing on Mount Carmel, the sun beating down on his head out of a clear, brazen sky. Elijah's just boasted that God will send rain, but not a hint of a cloud smudges even the remotest horizon. In stubborn faith he kneels down, head to knees, and prays earnestly for rain. He sends his servant to look to the sea for something, anything.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

At this point, I'd be giving up and feeling silly to boot. But Elijah doesn't stop there. Doggedly, he asks his servant to go and look one last time. The servant shades his eyes with his hands and squints as he looks toward the sea, scanning the sky for any change, not expecting anything. Then, there it is. Is that a cloud he sees? It is. It's tiny, but its there. He runs back to Elijah. "A cloud the size of a man's hand is rising from the sea." Elijah lifts his head to his servant and in dead earnest tells him to run to Ahab and alert him to get home before the rain stops him. Then Elijah leaps to his feet, prepares to run, and outpaces Ahab's chariot to the nearest city.

    I love this story. I love the bold faith. The might of God. The sheer crazy obedience. But you know what I noticed this time. It is also a story of tenacity of faith, of patience, and of unquestioning trust and obedience. Sure Elijah had just seen God do an amazing work in his duel with the prophets of Baal. He'd seen God shut up the heavens for three years after Elijah himself had prayed that they would close and God had provided Elijah's every need over the last few years, even down to bringing him food via a flock of ravens. But would God really continue? Could he trust God to come through?

    It's amazing how you can serve God for years -- even see Him do amazing things in your own life and through you -- and still have times of doubt when it comes to what He asks you to do next. I've been thinking about that in relation to where I'm at now, in regards to missions in Papua New Guinea, and regarding the ongoing drought in Papua New Guinea. You see, both Papua New Guinea (PNG) and I have seen mighty moves of God. We've seen Him provide and even demonstrate His power to us personally. However, now we stand at a new crossroad. A crossroad of trust, faith and obedience. You see, we're waiting for rain. PNG is waiting for physical rain to replenish drinking water, water crops and heal their land. I'm waiting for God's hand in my family's situation and in my ongoing ministry and direction about what I am to do next. And together PNG and I are waiting for God to pour down a spiritual rain that will refresh and revive both Papua New Guineans and non-Papua New Guineans alike. We need rain, but only God can send it. So we wait, for the cloud the size of a man's hand, and we ready ourselves to run. But until then, we bow our heads in stubborn, tenacious faith, trust and obedience until the rain comes.

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