The Rain of the Spirit

 

While flooding threatens several areas around the nation, we have sat in drought wishing that even a portion of the overflowing rivers could make it this far south. Lawns are dried up, and the ground is cracking. Plants and bushes, both cultivated and wild, have shriveled under the withering sun. The other day my grandson and I drove through a small wildfire just north of us. On one side of the interstate highway, burned stubs of trees stood like sentinels of death above the black and ashy ground. Smoldering fires threatened to spring up again, but little was left to feed them. Exits were blocked by authorities, and firefighting equipment lined the feeder road. Overhead, helicopters droned steadily, either scouting for new outbreaks or carrying huge balloons of liquid fire extinguisher to drench the fire-front. For the umpteenth time, I prayed for rain. The land was brittle and dry, ripe for burning alone. Finally, finally, the rain came. We could use more, but thank God, we got some.

 

Every living plant in the area perked up. The greens are brighter among the trees. The plants stand again, and the leaves are full and fluffy on the branches. The difference between watering a lawn with a sprinkler and the rain always fascinates me. No matter how consistently we water our plants and gardens, nothing we do is as effective as the rain to give them life again. I am not a scientist, but whatever it is that falls through the atmosphere is better for the earth than what comes out of garden hoses. The change is dramatic. Overnight, grass shot up in every lawn, and every tree and plant burst forth in strength again. But still, large swaths of brown, withered grass remain. One day, new growth will come, but not until there is sufficient rain to grow what is living, consuming the dead with new life. While trees and shrubs have roots enough to survive this latest drought, the grass on the surface is gone, nothing more than a widespread system of dead tentacles held tightly in hard, dry soil by tiny dead roots.

 

Creation reminds us of God, as it should since He created it. Much like the rain, where the Spirit is, there is life. Where the Spirit is not, there is death. Many churches are in a state of decline, and some are reaching the point of death. The problem lies not in programming or preaching, but in the absence of the Holy Spirit. All the good works a church can do will not save it. Only repentance and prayer for rebirth and renewal in the Holy Spirit will save dying congregations.

 

Likewise, in our own heart and soul, we have much the same experience. We can water our lives with reading and studying, but that barely sustains faith. Yes, we believe, but we are not rich with life and putting forth buds that become fruit. When we are born of the Spirit and continually renewed in Him, we come into the full life of Christ. Only then do we become fully alive.

 

For too many decades we have paid little attention to the work of the Holy Spirit among us, and the decline and decay of many churches are the fruit of our ignorance. The Spirit gives life. No effective manmade formula exists for the renewal of the church. Only the Spirit of God gives life to the church, and only the Spirit of God gives new birth and renewal in individual lives as well. Life and vitality are something we receive, not something we create. We cannot force Christian life to be real, but we can accept the true life of Christ that the Spirit gives.

 

In a time of recession the threat of deeper recession looms ahead. Long wars fought without clear reasoning, and the incessant preening of our political leaders discourage our hope that tomorrow will be a better day. The landscape seems full of withered dead spots. But our hope in the things of this world is misplaced. Certainly, we can enjoy this world, but only if our hope is in Christ and our souls are being renewed daily by the Holy Spirit. From Christ alone comes the wellspring of life. Drawing from Him, we can take in stride the seasons of decline and growth in the world, for life is not measured by what we have or what the future appears to hold. Life is poured out on us generously by Christ, and our hope is eternal not finite.

 

The Holy Spirit is the Third Person of the Holy Trinity, the least known and least discussed Person of God. That is our loss. We talk about Jesus and God, but we do not know what to do with the Holy Spirit. Yet, the Holy Spirit is given to all of us as we ask. God does not withhold Him from us, but pours the Spirit into our hearts in abundance, if we truly desire to be renewed and enlivened in the hope of Jesus Christ. All we have to do is ask. We do not even have to understand all that we are asking for. Indeed, who are we to understand the fullness of God? But we can receive the fullness of His life if we want it – the abundant life of the Spirit, continually renewing our souls and giving us eternal, everlasting hope and joy, not the fleeting and tenuous happiness we often seek.

 

This life is fragile and easily upset, but not so the life that the Spirit gives. If you yearn for abiding peace and true, authentic hope, perhaps in spite of your circumstances, then you have to receive it. Nothing in this world can provide you with these. They are the fruit of the Spirit. We may well be justified by faith, but we find ourselves as heirs of the Kingdom when we are filled with the Holy Spirit and renewed daily by Him. Have you asked to be filled with the Holy Spirit? Did you ask this morning that He fill and guide you? If not, do so now. For He gives the life that never dies. He even brings the barren and dead back to life. The promise of the life to come, given now in some measure by the Spirit, is the source of our hope for all tomorrows.

 

In Christ –

Elizabeth Moreau

© Servants’ Feast Ministry