The rain came down in sheets creating large puddles in the brown grass. As the dark gray sky emptied its large buckets of water onto the parched earth, Baby Boy and I went to the front door to watch. It had been a long dry season of insignificant rains, scarcely long enough to wet the ground. I breathed in the cooling scent of falling rain, not missing the parallelism to the watering that God gives: God’s rain.
I explained to Baby Boy that it was raining. The earth needed the rain in order to continue in the abundance of life.
Rain comes, the earth drinks and fruit is produced.
Baby Boy was mesmerized by the change in scenery. I felt comforted watching the monotonous gray driblets fall to the ground and listening to the rolling thunder in the distance. It was so nice to welcome this downpour, even if it did change the trajectory of our day.
Who likes going out in the rain? And who likes waiting to see if it will really rain as the unreliable meteorologist predicts?
As we watched the rain pour, I continued to let my thoughts wander. And I was suddenly drowned in dismay at the conclusions my mind drew. My days since having Baby Boy had become a whirlwind of emotional reactions. Agitating questions and concerns made my heart reel as I tried to anticipate where the day would lead. These fluctuating days held me captive. I allowed the inconsistent weather of an infant’s whims to dictate how I felt, what I did, and even how I reacted.
When would he nap? When would he wake? When would he eat? When would I get a BREAK?!
My head whipped side to side as I rushed back and forth trying to catch every single drop before the clouds opened up engulfing me in a storm of anguish. All the fruit I had gathered and stored in the months previous to Baby Boy’s birth were quickly being depleted.
I had spent my pregnant months preparing for and storing up the fruit of what God had taught me with his gentle rain of love. Yet my emotions from these postpartum months threatened to wash away the quiet confidence his promises had given with a violent flash flood of anxieties. Unfortunately, I had slowly but surely allowed the ups and downs of raising a baby to manage my days, ruining good habits that had been formed in my relationship with God.
There is a difference between giving God your life plans and creating a daily spiritual discipline plan.
Sadly, I recognized the discouraging metaphor. My life had become a series of scattered showers. I tip-toed around my days, waiting to see if symbolic rain would come. Instead of making intentional, long-term plans, trusting in God’s provision, I had failed in my own human capacity to make daily plans I knew would water my soul.
Obviously I love my son; he’s my priority, but I was doing all the worrying. Pushing aside my quiet time and journaling time, I deemed other aspects of being a mom more important than connecting with God. In order to “see how the day went,” I guiltily dismissed anything that didn’t concern Baby Boy. But this way of life was proving to be a fruitless endeavor. I dropped plans with friends, neglected to join fellowship with other mothers, and denied myself time to refocus and recharge.
Worrying became my favorite pastime.
Instead of trusting that God had everything under His divine control, I was trying to answer all the questions. I believed it was solely me who would placate every tiny whimper from my son.
I had yet again clenched tightly the reins of motherhood (Yikes!), and I needed to let go and let God.
“Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.”
Deuteronomy 32:2 NIV
When I first started listening to and learning from God, I was a single woman. One little sprout in a desert soaking up everything He poured out. Then I became a wife, joined in the desert with another. And God showed me how to love and serve someone besides myself. Now as a mother, I beg God for His abundant yet gentle showers to fall on my tender Mother Sprouts as I learn from Him in this season of life.
With an infant, there are huge disruptions to the day.
I can’t avoid unplanned episodes that are out of my control. But, with God’s help, it was time to start welcoming the flow of rain. Because rain, in its season, helps the plants grow and blossom. As a new mother, I crave for God’s rain to fall on these burgeoning “tender plants” in my heart.
Bottom Line
These Mother Sprouts will never be strong enough on their own. I must allow God’s teaching to rain all over my day. The deluge needs to fully immerse my new Mother Sprouts. God’s rain is restoring and gives me the ability to rest my worrying mind under His mighty reign. I had been sowing on dry ground, believing I was the only one who knew what was best for my son. Yet again, I needed the rain to come. To hear God’s faithful voice guiding me in this new season of motherhood and pouring peace over my anxious heart.
In order to bloom into a wise, compassionate mother, I pray for God’s rain to fall on my weary soul, sinking deep into every dry crack of my heart. Only His rain produces fruit powerful enough to weather any drought. So drink up, ye Mother Sprouts of all motherhood seasons, and rejoice in the rain!
“Be glad, people of Zion, rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given you the autumn rains because he is faithful. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains, as before.”
Joel 2:23 NIV
Next Steps: For a downpour of God’s rain, check out these verses. May they quench your soul.
