Back in January, I was still working in Orange County so the commute
home always took me on the I-57 North, which, if you're familiar with
Southern California freeways, then you know that this one takes you
through some small rolling hills before hitting the I-10. I drove
through these peaks daily, but rarely noticed the beauty they offer
until after a week or so of regular rainfall. Instead, I mostly
grumbled about having to drive in the downpour (pictured below) and sit
in bumper to bumper traffic. I dislike driving in wet conditions as it
is, and most residents of the state will readily admit to being spoiled
by the usually sunny conditions, so when our rainy season hits, people
nearly lose their minds. It's as if we all forget how to drive when
water strikes. Our interstates are jammed packed already without
precipitation, but throw a storm into the mix and it looks like what
L.A. dubbed "Carmageddon" in 2011 when the I-405 temporarily shut down.
Simply put, many of us, while keenly aware of the need for it, don't
like the rain, at least not while driving. On January, 12, however, I
was heading home through the hills after the week of storms had subsided
and I was caught off guard by how beautifully green the landscape
looked as I passed by (see pictures below). It was as if I was seeing
everything for the first time. Had it always looked so colorfully
vibrant and just missed my attention or was there really a difference?
There was just something deeper and richer about the shade of green than
what it had been before the week of storms, and it wasn't long after
that when I realized the sweet parallels in the spiritual realm - To see
clearly, sometimes it takes the rain.
Fast forward nearly eight months and here I sit in my five week old daughter's room. The entire story of her existence is one for another day, but for now I'll just share that she was birthed out of a heavy spiritual rain storm. One of the heaviest my life has witnessed to date. In the last 10 years, I prayed almost relentlessly for another child. Like Hannah (1 Samuel 1:9-28) I begged God to do the impossible and open the lines of conception between my husband and me. Year after year, however, God's perceived answer was no. As a result, I fell into a depression at least once annually. Despite growing feelings of resentment and anger, I did my best to focus on my blessings and career, but the gnawing desire for another child only grew. Couple that with the strains in my marriage at that time, and the recipe was complete for a full breakdown of every foundation I had ever constructed. The bible tells us in Psalm 127:1 that "unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain," and while I thought the Lord had built my house, it turns out He hadn't. My husband and I had come together amidst the ruin of his first marriage and everything we built after that time had been based on lies, deception, sexual immorality, and idolatry. Although we both gave our lives to Christ in 2007, a year after we married, the structure of our home had been set by us long before and neither of us knew how to sustain it. Nine years into the marriage in 2015, I left. I had been hurt in ways I wasn't equipped to handle and ultimately wound up hurting him in a similar fashion. The foundation under us was shattered. But God...
In Revelation 21:5, the Lord says "Behold, I am making all things new..." and although my marriage ultimately ended in divorce and I conceived a daughter from a different relationship, the downpour of rain over the last two years has opened both mine and my ex-husband's eyes to the beauty of painful endings that give way to extraordinary new beginnings. Despite the emotional injuries he inflicted on me early in the marriage, he never thought I'd leave. Once I left and threw emotionally injurious blows back his way, I never thought he'd stay. Now here we are. The heartache that broke us, God is using to build and restore us and the daughter conceived outside of us, God has used to unite us. Isaiah 43:18-19 says this: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Out of the wilderness that spans the last two years, a way now exists and in the wasteland of our own efforts to build a relationship and marriage, he and I both now wade in the God given streams of a fresh start. We see each other in a different light now, and the daughter we're jointly raising is the epitome of God's amazing grace as He now builds the house. We see the beauty in the landscape of our relationship and the vibrant color of each other's heart and soul.... But it took the rain...
Fast forward nearly eight months and here I sit in my five week old daughter's room. The entire story of her existence is one for another day, but for now I'll just share that she was birthed out of a heavy spiritual rain storm. One of the heaviest my life has witnessed to date. In the last 10 years, I prayed almost relentlessly for another child. Like Hannah (1 Samuel 1:9-28) I begged God to do the impossible and open the lines of conception between my husband and me. Year after year, however, God's perceived answer was no. As a result, I fell into a depression at least once annually. Despite growing feelings of resentment and anger, I did my best to focus on my blessings and career, but the gnawing desire for another child only grew. Couple that with the strains in my marriage at that time, and the recipe was complete for a full breakdown of every foundation I had ever constructed. The bible tells us in Psalm 127:1 that "unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain," and while I thought the Lord had built my house, it turns out He hadn't. My husband and I had come together amidst the ruin of his first marriage and everything we built after that time had been based on lies, deception, sexual immorality, and idolatry. Although we both gave our lives to Christ in 2007, a year after we married, the structure of our home had been set by us long before and neither of us knew how to sustain it. Nine years into the marriage in 2015, I left. I had been hurt in ways I wasn't equipped to handle and ultimately wound up hurting him in a similar fashion. The foundation under us was shattered. But God...
In Revelation 21:5, the Lord says "Behold, I am making all things new..." and although my marriage ultimately ended in divorce and I conceived a daughter from a different relationship, the downpour of rain over the last two years has opened both mine and my ex-husband's eyes to the beauty of painful endings that give way to extraordinary new beginnings. Despite the emotional injuries he inflicted on me early in the marriage, he never thought I'd leave. Once I left and threw emotionally injurious blows back his way, I never thought he'd stay. Now here we are. The heartache that broke us, God is using to build and restore us and the daughter conceived outside of us, God has used to unite us. Isaiah 43:18-19 says this: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Out of the wilderness that spans the last two years, a way now exists and in the wasteland of our own efforts to build a relationship and marriage, he and I both now wade in the God given streams of a fresh start. We see each other in a different light now, and the daughter we're jointly raising is the epitome of God's amazing grace as He now builds the house. We see the beauty in the landscape of our relationship and the vibrant color of each other's heart and soul.... But it took the rain...
*Don't despise your spiritually rainy days; the trials are not sent
to break you, but to build you. Allow the cleansing and refreshing
waters to flood your soul with the love and grace of His Spirit. May you
have eyes to see the richness of color that surrounds you from the
storm*
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