Promises for a Rainy Day
A Devotional Series
As a long-standing believer, the concept of God’s perfect plan for my life isn’t new to me. Yet sometimes, the certainty of God’s control and care over my life feels like insurance contract verbiage rather than a gleaming covenantal promise. On some days when everything seems abysmal, I wonder if God can forget what He’s promised. Each time that happens, the Holy Spirit does what He does best — surprises me.
I typically bemoan the fact that I have to take a bus which takes me to the train that takes me to work. I grumble and complain, wondering why the God of the Universe doesn’t just give me an easier way to get to work or open up a luxury apartment near my downtown Chicago office with rent so low it draws a gasp. Or even better, He can make a way for me to live work-free in abundance. If God can do anything, why isn’t He doing that?
One morning as it rains lightly, I walk to the bus stop and there stands an Indian woman probably in her late thirties that I’ve seen a handful of times. I’m busy in my thoughts wondering if God remembers I don’t like commuting in the rain or not when I catch a glimpse of her looking at me, then my umbrella, then back to me, and again to the umbrella. She herself only shields from the rain by the hoodie of her puffer jacket. Seconds away from offering a place under my umbrella, the bus arrives and we board in silence. Those five stops to the train station riddle me with questions — should I have offered earlier or noticed earlier? Was she expecting me to offer? Was I rude? I wasn’t trying to be rude; I just didn’t think her silent glances could have hidden a question until the bus was smack dab in our faces. Then I ask myself, what would have made my morning in the middle of the rain at a bus stop I didn’t want to be at?
A few days later the forecast is light rain again. I go off to work earlier than usual but realize I forgot my watch and in trying to get my step counts in, I turn back figuring I could still make the coming bus that is only ten minutes away. When I turn back on my street, I see the garbage truck realizing I forgot both my watch and to put out the garbage last night. Watch and garbage, I tell myself. Watch and garbage and I’m out the door. As soon as I get back into my apartment I notice that the laundry in the washer never made it to the dryer. The thought crosses my mind that I should probably do that now so I can fold and put everything away after work. Ok — laundry, watch, garbage. That’s it!
I definitely miss the bus after all that.
I even contemplate working from home, thinking in jest that obviously I’m needed more there.
In my slow stroll to the bus stop with rain pitter-pattering on my umbrella, I look up to see her. The woman from earlier this week. Again under her hoodie, barely escaping the wind and rain. This time I have no hesitation. She doesn’t have time to offer me a tennis match of glances or a hello before that umbrella is above us both, and when she looks up at me and offers a thank you, my heart floods with a Holy-Spirit-inspired gladness.
For the rest of our wait, the entirety of the bus and train ride, and the remainder of my day I’m reminded of God’s unyielding provision.
Reflect
I complain about commuting and having to go into the office at all, but it’s not a coincidence that I’d forgotten two household chores and my watch, giving me just enough time to make my appointment with the woman at the bus stop.
I was so consumed with all God wasn’t doing for me that I nearly missed what He was and is doing through me and for those around me.
All day, and for the next few weeks, I was struck with how deeply the Lord cares deeply for that woman and for each of us. Deeply enough that He’ll place someone at the right place and time to shield you from coming weather and blowing circumstance. Deep enough that He will send His Spirit to do that and more. Deep enough that He places is hands over our lives like umbrellas to protect us in a storm. He is, quite literally, a friend in the rain. Now how could this God, who doesn’t neglect the smallest details, forget the mounting promises He’s made?
With such an intentional and affectionate Father, no placement, timing, or thing can be reduced to coincidental — we each have a role and a promise, even in the rain. I needed the reminder that we are “…God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10). That nothing no season, month, day, or minute is wasted for in “…all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28).
It’s hard to see the promise as gleaming as it is, but please take heart. God has a promise for your a life and plan for every day we walk with Him on this side of Heaven.
You will catch glimpses of His perfect authorship in what at first seems as dull and ordinary as the rain.
Prayer
Merciful God and Father, forgive me for the times I doubt your provision and promises.
Come Holy Spirit and remind me you are true. Help my unbelief.
Help me to put on a beloved and compassionate heart filled with kindness, humility, meekness, and patience*. Help me to be grateful for the rainy days and the sunny ones alike; for what I have and what I do not. I want to live in gratefulness as your plan unfolds, Lord.
Help me to wait on you.
Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. — Colossians 3:12 (ESV)
Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him. — Isaiah 30:18 (ESV)
