The rain hit the windscreen, the wipers swept back and forward and the glass fogged up. I hunched over the wheel and peered out the window. Out into the darkened world and rain drumming down.
"Careful!" My mum warned me.
"I can't see properly," I whined, making the necessary adjustment.
She said nothing.
"I don't know which it is," she'd said last night, thinking of all the rain in her life "I don't know if it's the Devil trying to stop me doing God's work, or God saying that I am too proud about my work and teaching me to rely on Him."
I laughed and answered "both"
"Very helpful," she'd said.
And I'd wanted to know why.
Why does rain have to be one or the other? Why is it either a curse or a blessing? Why do we think they happen separately?
Why can't the Devil be attacking you, trying to stop you working for God's glory? And why can't God be using that to teach you not to be proud, but to rely on Him?
The rain that makes seeing hard is the same rain that feeds dry ground.
So let it rain.
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