And He heard me out of His holy hill.

For the LORD God is both sun and shield; He will give grace and glory; No good thing will the LORD withhold from those who walk with integrity. O LORD of hosts, happy are they who put their trust in You! Psalm 84:10–12

Early in the morning I cry out to You, for in Your word is my trust. Psalm 119:147

I put my trust in Your mercy; my heart is joyful because of Your saving help. Psalm 13:5

And that old Facebook is a funny thing, a peculiar sense of community. And this morning, when this lady whose life  seems  practically perfect is every way posted the Romans verses describing pain: And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us, she got a jillion likes.

Life is hard. But the love of God has been, present perfect which means that an action has begun in the past and continues into the present, poured out in our hearts. By the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

I was doing research last night, preparing to take some national test to prove that I can be an English teacher, and I found out about Anne Bradshaw, really the very first American woman writer who sailed to the New World when she was 18 years old, in 1630. And she was branded a heretic because she believed that the Holy Spirit dwells within a justified person, and that His presence is not based on good words. So she was labeled as a Jezebel. And banished and was later slain in an Indian attack in New York.

And on that happy note, I head out the door, photo identification in hand​

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It’s all about perseverance. Character. Hope. Love of God.

And joy. My first waking thought this morning was a cry for a heart of joy. And I did flip turns humming “Glory and the Lifter of my head.”

Dear LORD, so be it.

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.