Droughts. Doubts.
Rain storms. Abundance.
When we are in a drought, in lack, it’s easy- for me at least- to think it’s always going to last. It’s easy to think that the drought and dryness and thirsting for more will linger and last and that water won’t come again.
And when it rains, I don’t feel that same longing. When it rains, I know that the rain is going to end. It never rains forever! It never rains always. And maybe that’s because I have more experience with rain- a euphemism for abundance- than with drought.
Maybe.
Because I grew up traveling, frequenting my motherland- literally, the birthland of my mother- of Jamaica and visiting her sister in Miami, Florida. In both of these places, when it rains, it pours. But if you give it a few breaths, a few beats. The rain ends. The skies clear. The sun returns. The sky lightens again.
But drought? I have minimal experience with literal drought.
When it’s dry and achy and uncomfortably, it often feels like it’s going to linger for forever. When I don’t drink enough water. My body rages under the consequences. My lips are dry and cracked. My skin aches and not enough body oil or coco butter can quench its thirst because the ache is internal, that no external solutions can cure.
I don’t have the same experience with drought that I do with rain. I didn’t grow up in a dry climate.
No, I grew up in Boston. Where when it rained, it rained. Perhaps all day. Perhaps all night. But certainly not as fleeting as the tropical rains that grace the Miami or Jamaica.
My relationship with drought differs greatly. Because even though I have experience with it, I forget faster. I am slower to remember that exactly like the rain, the drought will pass, too.
Drought is doubt. It’s fear. It’s loneliness. It’s longing. It’s yearning. It’s hunger. It’s thirst.
“April flowers bring may showers!” As someone who didn’t love the rain as a child, and only grew to love it as an adult, my mother ferquently reminded me of it. Perhaps because she was far more experienced with the abundance that soon follows each and every rainstorm. Have you been to Jamaica? Have you seen the lush land? The non-ending greens of grasses, the bright purples and pinks and blues of flowers. Colors and shapes that we long for in the U.S. that exist only there. With rain, comes good. With rain, comes abundance.
So perhaps I need a cute new slogan for myself about the droughts. To remind me that the worst things that happened to me, were hiding what I came to know only later. The worst things that happened to me are the best things that happened for me. I didn’t know how strong I’d be if the weight of the world became too heavy. If I didn’t test my limits. No, if other people didn’t test my limits.
A Prayer of Gratitude and Reflection
God, thank you for drought. Thank you for abundance. Thank you that life is seasonal. Thank you that you made time and everything in it. And that we were made to not only survive, but thrive. Thank you that you are more than enough. Thank you that you made me in your image and likeness, and that we have everything we need to be successful. To be filled. Thank you that you empty us and refill us again. Thank you that nothing lasts forever, except for your undying love. Your undying grace. Thank you that your emptying and refilling and lack and abundance are of you. Thank you that you always restore me. Thank you that though I change, you are unchanged. Thank you that you have already given me everything I need and every hardship I endured grew and matured me and made me into this bold, courageous, beautiful, more outspoken, more light, and more bright version of me. Thank you that your ways are higher, greater, and more than my own. Thank you that my will is aligning with yours. Thank you that when I am in your will, I get to experience heaven on earth. Thank you that “heaven on earth” are not only words written in the bible, but for me to feel, touch, see, experience, and live. Thank you that I am enough. Thank you that I am grateful for the drought. Thank you that I am grateful for the rain, too. Thank you that for cactuses that thrive in drought and are a storehouse of water to let me know that I can thrive in droughts, too.
