sink my muddy feet

Cool and gentle rain tickling my face and arms, giving me chill bumps to refresh my spirit and remind me I am alive.

Excited droplets of rain dancing on thick banana leaves.

Flower petals laden, drooping shy in the storm and then… standing tall again as the rains slowly end.   

The musty sweet scent of wet ground radiating with new life.

A night sky coming alive as it is ignited by lightning strikes. Again and again.

Tropical rain pulsating against our rusty tin roof, lulling me to sleep.

The rains have returned.

At least to the little patch of planet Earth God has made our home. The ground that was once split open by the lack of rain to reveal deep hollows is now sloppy wet oozing mushy-gushy mud between toes. Previously sun scorched grass crunched under the weight of any bare feet that braved (and burned) upon it is now vibrantly green covering the ground like a lusciously soft bearskin rug. Our local market was nearly bare, only offering a shrunken version of produce ridden with wormholes, and is now full to the brim with fruits and vegetables ripe with life and rich in seemingly every color of the rainbow. The roads once loose with stones sliding out from beneath dust covered feet and swirling rust colored puffs into the dry air as cars drove by are now sloppy wet with puddles. For what was months on end, the sun or moon were the only objects visible against the intense turquoise-blue skies of day and glittery starry skies of the night. From horizon to horizon the skies were barren of clouds. And now. Now dark clouds saturated with life-giving water almost daily roll in and overtake the skies. Clouds that grumble and moan thunder and creep in to hide the mountains that surround our home.

“The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” Isaiah 58:11 NKJV

The rains have returned!

The day before yesterday I walked through the gentle ending of what had been a late afternoon rainstorm. The day had been sticky hot until the heavy, dark clouds ushered in afternoon air thick with the scent of tropical rain. The stretch of road in front of our home was slippery with thick red mud and my flip-flops tried to jump out from under me with each step I took. It was awkward and I might have squealed in fear of falling on my rear. (It’s a completely justifiable fear by the way. Been there. Done that.) My wide legged jeans were embarrassingly rolled half way up my calves - #UkaGlam- in attempt to keep the fabric from being caked heavy with mud… and yet with each step I cautiously took that mud still found a way to sneak up the back of my legs! This now grown up grown older missionary kid who hates dirty feet and appalls even the thought of mud nearing her sparkly painted toenails was ever-so-carefully mud slinging, puddle stomping, flip-flops sliding her way down the road.

And I faintly heard the Holy Spirit whisper to me about this messy side of the rain. And how other messier parts of my life have mimicked these returned rains.

More recently, my usually simple-thinking self has been smothered by thoughts. Yes, thoughts. Thoughts that I have been thinking. To put the ugly image into your head… It has felt like I am back in my serving days (oh, didn’t you know that I was a waitress for 10 years plus?). My mind has returned me a place where my arms and back are aching whilst attempting to balance huge, heavy, awkward plates stacked haphazardly upon each other. Plates overflowing and oozing. Yes, oozing, sticky messes of all sorts of big emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally demanding things.

And so as I traipsed along my way, something about the messiness of the rains that I have previously overlooked caught my attention.

I noticed, with newfound appreciation, how tiny yet swift rivers carved out miniscule caverns along the puddle-infested path. And how those streams exposed stones, glorious stones, as the water washed away dirt and debris that once hid their existence from my eyes. I noticed how that dirt and debris was slung about every which way (as I delicately held grasped for dear life onto my oversized umbrella hopeful it would aid me in keeping my balance). Amongst the groddy mess of mud and muck, those stones glistened as the cool water washed over them. And they spoke to me (figuratively)!

“the stones along the road will burst into cheers” Luke 19:40 NLT,

The stones were cheering! In the middle of the mess, they were cheering.

As they cheered, I was reminded of a song I love by Jillian Edwards called ‘Sink My Feet’.  These specific lyrics came to mind:

If You are the rocks, set my feet upon You

Never let me move

Keep me by You

I’d leave my fear alone

Not asking for anything

Just to keep me by You

And sink my feet into the stone

Guys, the return of the rains has brought fresh life back again to our valley. The same life-giving rains have also brought back muddy floors, dirty feet and dripping umbrellas. And those changes and transitions and big life things the Lord has simultaneously allowed, have in the process of it all, made life a bit muddy and messy too.

But God! But the same God who brought the rains ordained the messy, sticky changes in my life and in me. I know He is trustworthy and faithful. So here in the messier parts my heart will continue to seek to abandon fear and strive to be unmoved from His side. Allowing the rains and changes of life to wash over my soul and spirit and sink my muddy feet into the Rock that will never, ever be shaken.

“He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will never be shaken.” Psalm 62:2 NLT