Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
Habakkuk 3:17,18 ESV
Once you’ve lived in the desert for any stretch of time, you regard every blade of green grass and every leafy tree as some sort of small miracle. Explain to me all you like about weather patterns and geography but it will never take away my wonder at seeing fresh green grass and flowering dogwood trees.
And yet, no matter how desolate the deserts I’ve been in, all it takes is one rainy day, one small snow shower, and the desert blooms into life.
The life was always there, of course. The only question is, will I rejoice only after I see it? Or will I rejoice on every bleak day and cold night, no matter what?
It’s the same with much of life. Often we don’t rejoice – or think we have the right to rejoice – until some good result comes along.
But what if rejoicing is the rain your life needs, in order to see the beauty bloom?
Every raindrop is effective. The rain may look like gratitude, or prayer, or going for a run. There may be raindrops made up of little acts of selflessness and raindrops of thoughtful connections with another suffering heart. But every drop of rejoicing falls on the vibrant, beautiful life that is present in your heart and helps it unfold.
You are loved, and you cannot be prevented from living this perfect love.