Here in rural east Texas, we are a hurtin' for rain, ya'll.
(Practicin' my southern accent. How am I doing?)
And we look to the skies quite often hopin' for 'nuff raindrops to get a right, good drenchin'.
(Better? Too much? I am a bit self conscious yet . . . I am thinking a little bit goes a long way when it comes from the mouth of a native northerner. And thus ends any and all impressions for the day. You are welcome.)
The other day we had a downpour that lasted approximately 92 seconds. It rained hard. But for only 92 seconds. Alas, it didn't even get through three of the 17 layers of dirt on our truck.
Sigh . . . Lord, please send the rain!
I took a picture the other day, of the lovely Texan sky seen right outside the ranch where we are temporarily staying. But Blogger is being a Booger and not letting me post any pictures. You'll have to use your imagination. Here's a bit of help: It looked dark enough that I thought it would rain. A lot. With Lightening and big booms of thunder.
And then the skies promptly and without warning cleared up. Dangnabit.
It's okay, I know Who tells the tide where to stop on the shore, so I am confident that He has this whole not-enough-rain-to-float-a-tick situation under His watchful eye too.
(The following poem was introduced to me by BooMama. Thanks!)
A million worlds in rhythmic sway,
Yet in our blindness some will say,
“There is no God controlling!”
New wonders crowd the eye, the ear,
And faith grows firmer every year:
“My God is there, controlling!”
Explore the earth for nature’s laws,
Yet seldom in our searching pause
To think of God controlling.
Each burst of truth upon my sight
That quickens awe or adds delight,
Reveals my God controlling.