A poet stands by the window watching a summer shower. It is a fierce downpour, beating and pounding the earth. But the poet, in his mind’s eye, sees more than a rain shower falling. He sees a myriad of lovely flowers raining down, soon breaking forth from the freshly watered earth, and filling it with their matchless beauty and fragrance. And so he sings;
It isn’t raining rain to me – it’s raining daffodils;
In every dripping drop I see wildflowers up the hills.
A cloud of gray engulfs the day, and overwhelms the town;
It isn’t raining to me – it’s raining roses down.
Perhaps you are undergoing some trial as God’s child, and you are saying to Him,
“O God, it is raining very hard on me tonight, and this test seems beyond my power to endure. Disappointments are pouring in, washing away and utterly defeating my chosen plans. My trembling heart is grieved and is cowering at the intensity of my suffering. Surely the rains of affliction are beating down upon my soul.”
You are completely mistaken. God is not raining rain on you – He is raining blessings. If you will only believe your Father’s Word, you will realize that springing up beneath the pounding rain are spiritual flowers. And they are more beautiful and fragrant than those that ever grew before in your storm less and suffering-free life.
You can see the rain, but can you also see the flowers?
You are suffering through these tests, but know that God sees sweet flowers of faith
Springing up in your like beneath these very trials. You try to escape the pain, yet God sees tender compassion for other sufferers finding birth in your soul. Your heart winces at the pain of heavy grief, but God sees the sorrow deepening and enriching your life.
No, my friend, it is not raining afflictions on you. It is raining tenderness, love, compassion, patience, and a thousand other flowers and fruits of the Holy Spirit!
And they are bringing to your life spiritual enrichment that all the prosperity and ease of this world could never produce in your innermost being.
|Do you see springing up |
beneath the pounding rain there are spiritual flowers?