The preacher said the words on Sunday morning. It was the day we celebrate the resurrection of our Savior from the grave where He was laid.
He said other words, but I got stuck on these. It happens. I apologize to him for it sometimes. Other times, I simply figure it was what I needed to remember from the thought that captivated my brain. I hope he’ll understand.
“God proclaims that Jesus will reign forever.”
I nodded my head. I knew this. It’s not new ground—prophecies spoken to the Messiah’s ancestor, centuries ago. But, reminders spoken on this memorable day—pointing out the truth of who He is—are necessary and helpful.
The row of chairs we had chosen to sit in was behind a lovely young family. The sweet girls directly in front of me were taking notes. They always do. As the words filled the page, there was a little doodling going on, as well. I couldn’t help but see the page of one of the youngsters’ notes.
The words weren’t exactly what the pastor had shared in his outline on the platform. She had, however, added a lovely illustration which drove the point home quite nicely. I think I’ll suggest to him that he might add some personal artwork in the slides next week. I don’t know if he’ll think it essential. Time will tell.
“Jesus will rain forever.”
Those were the words she had written.
I chuckled. Quietly. But, it almost didn’t stay that way, as the heavy rainfall beat down anew on the roof above us. It had rained for 3 days, something over five inches locally, and would continue until after lunch that day.
The young lady could be forgiven if she wondered if it would rain forever. Rainy days are a hardship for kids, especially when they’re used to being outside a lot. Okay. They’re even hard for old men like me sometimes.
Along with the words, the sweet girl had sketched a scene of raindrops, falling incessantly from the darkened clouds drawn above them.
Rain. Forever.
The pastor meant us to understand the reign of the Conquering King was, quite literally, forever.
But, as a metaphor, the eternal rain is what occupied my mind for the rest of the sermon—and beyond.
“You heavens above, rain down my righteousness;
let the clouds shower it down.
Let the earth open wide,
let salvation spring up,
let righteousness flourish with it;
I, the Lord, have created it.“
(Isaiah 45:8, NLT)
The red-headed lady who raised me, she with her maxims and truisms, said it again and again (usually when she was overwhelmed):
“It never rains, but it pours.”
I had to live a few years before I understood that wasn’t an EITHER/OR statement, but one of IF/AND. She believed that whenever a trickle of rain started, the gully-washer was close behind. Troubles, she always thought.
I’d like to think that the maxim is true. In the positive aspect, I want to believe it.
Blessings fall in drops around us, plopping to earth, creating puffs of dust in the thirsty soil—in anticipation of the soaking that is coming.
“Mercy-drops ’round us are falling,
But for the showers we plead.”
(from Showers of Blessings, hymn by Daniel Webster Whittle)
Most of what I hear from folks these days is the negative, the certainty that worse is to come. I could be wrong, but I think there are still better things ahead.
Call me a dreamer if you want; I still believe our Creator gives good gifts.
Falling from Above. Good gifts. From the Father of Lights.
He will rain. Forever.
I want to be standing outside waiting in the downpour.
Come stand with me.
You can even bring your umbrella if you want.
“It is the Lord who created the stars,
the Pleiades and Orion.
He turns darkness into morning
and day into night.
He draws up water from the oceans
and pours it down as rain on the land.
The Lord is his name!”
(Amos 5:8, NLT)
“But you remain;
your years do not come to an end.
The children of your servants will settle down here,
and their descendants will live securely in your presence.”
(Psalm 102:27, NET)
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.
