Famine

Bro Martin preached about famine's last night. Famines in our lives, and how we get through them. Of course, he said that it's most important not to turn from God in your famines. He also said, don't let them destroy you.

Destruction. That's certainly something my family would know a lot about right now. I don't think I can bare looking into my father's eyes again and seeing the pain, defeat, and anger there. It's as if the whole ordeal has sucked the life force, the very thing that made him my father...is gone. And that breaks my heart. I seldom see that old, happy smile he wore, or that light, that mischevious glint dancing in his eyes anymore. It's just a dull ache there. Seeing my family fall to pieces around me is the most gut wrenching feeling I've ever had. I've always believed that God has a plan that he "knows the way that I take," but right now I can't seem to find that thread of hope anymore. God promised us that he wouldn't put more on us than we can bare, but how are we supposed to bare this? How am I supposed to get up and watch the life slip further and further from his eyes? How am I supposed to go to church and pretend everything is fine, and that we're making it, when we're not? We're dying! My soul feels just like that picture right now: Dry and thirsty, begging and pleading for a little relief from this famine that has so completely enveloped us.

I've always felt that the symoblism for rain got a bad rap. Rain was always tied to gloom, sorrow, and trials. But, in reality, rain is healing. Rain is what heals the broken lands, it's a life force that rejuvenates all those that are in need. And we haven't had much of it lately. Ironically, this has been the wettest summer we've had in decades. Contrary to that, this has been the dryest summer of my life, spiritually. No matter where I try to turn, I can't seem to find relief. The tears that course down my face just feel like a mockery of what I can't seem to find.

With all my heart, I wish I had a message of hope, but that's one thing I can't seem to find right now. Hope. It feels like a far away dream that was long ago lost. I want, more than anything, to look up at the sky and see those billowing rain clouds roll my way, showering my in a stream of hope and healing. My favorite story in the Bible is the story of Elijah when he built the altar to God, after the prophets of Baal built their altar, and God sent fire down to burn the sacrifice. Then, after three years of famine, God tells him it's going to rain, so Elijah sits down and begins to pray, sending his servant every so often to check for rainclouds. After about the seventh time, he comes back, saying that he saw a cloud "like as a man's hand," and Elijah told him to go tell the king to get ready, because it was going to rain. God, I pray you will bring that rain to me once again.

The last thing Bro Martin said last night was that the famine never lasts forever. God....I claim that promise...in Jesus' name, I claim that promise.