On Monday, it attempted to rain, a five minute splatter of drops on my windshield while I waited for a train to pass. I rolled down my window excitedly, sticking my hand out and asking God for one of the drops to land on it. Immediately, a wash of fear came over me, why would God answer that prayer, that’s ridiculous, that’s such a small thing, what if it’s up to chance and doesn’t happen. I felt God check my spirit and say “If you know that I know how much you love rain, why wouldn’t I give you a drop?”
I stuck my hand back out the window tentative, waited almost thirty seconds, but suddenly while I only saw eight raindrops hit my windshield, one came down right between my knuckles. A few seconds later the rain stopped altogether, but not before God had answered my request for a single raindrop.
To receive it, faith had to conquer fear. This was something that was so trivial, so unimportant, so easy for God to control, the path of a tiny raindrop, yet I was afraid that He wouldn’t do it. How then do I translate my attitudes into a marriage partner, a future career, and financial provision? If I couldn’t believe that he would give me a raindrop, do I really believe he’s preparing my future?
Matthew 7: 9-11 reminds us: 9“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10Or if he asks for a fish, will you give him a snake? 11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
It’s been three days since my raindrop and I have spent them turning over what it means to be a daughter of the king. Often, we look at that title as an obligation, a responsibility: “If you’re a child of God you better walk like it, talk like it”, etc. But God wants to remind us that to be his child is to be his delight, not because of what we do, or how we are, but because of who we are. There is a deep love in that identity, a deep cherishing that we often overlook because we cannot understand why God would want to treat us that way.
Pastor Anthony made mention in a sermon: that we begin to doubt God’s word because we hold it on a plane with our own, fallible, able to be falsified. We begin to rationalize and doubt our way to a compromised view of who God is. The truth is, as his daughter, when I asked him for a raindrop, he gave me one, right on the top of my hand. He reminded me that He knew what delighted me, the little subtleties of our communication in which rain always symbolized a promise that things would be okay. He reminded me that He wanted to give me the little things that I loved not because I’d earned myself a raindrop, but because He loves us enough to want to provide for the smallest of needs if we choose to ask.
Don’t be afraid to ask.