All God's promises are yes and amen.

Show me the light of your countenance, O God, and come to me. Psalm 67:1

So this morning’s plop of the paper headlines brought news of the “Deluge brings mudslides, flooding to Southern California.” And both California and Arizona are suffering from a historical drought. And people in the southwest spend a lot of time cinching in their metaphorical belts as the dust swirls about, looking longingly up into the sky.

photo by Cate Wilcox

And this morning there was a huge rainbow stretching across the Tucson western sky. Even though it hadn’t rained. But it was a promise. A promise of God’s goodness. Even our quite wry and very stoical swim coach pulled out his smart phone camera and muttered something about this proving that there is a God.

And yesterday a student asked me if there were any examples of perseverance in the Bible for their final essay on their final exam ever for Mrs. Voelkel, a persuasive essay about what really matters in life. And I told him that my favorite Bible hero is Joseph, and maybe it doesn’t seem like much, but what he persevered was in hope. Joseph never lost sight of that childhood promise, even though absolutely nothing in life seemed to support his dreams, from being sold into slavery and tossed over a camel’s back to being unjustly tossed into what I am sure was a quite unpleasant prison, he hung in there, doing the small things well, the small things faithfully. And he didn’t grow bitter or vengeful. Rather he saw God’s good hand through it all.

 

And as we continued swimming in the early morning, a fine mist filled the air. It wasn’t even splatters of raindrops. Just a sweet refreshment that sort of reminded me of those whose heart is set on a pilgrimage, even in the Valley of Bitterness, they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.

And as I wrapped my puddled parka around my shoulders and headed home, my heart sang in peace. He is good. And the prayer of thanksgiving comes before the blessing. Eucharist. The promise comes before the rains.

And the rain is now pounding on the down in buckets. Shoot, and I didn’t bring in dry firewood.