The sky is grey and the rain is still falling.
I'm watching as rain hits a puddle beside the chair on the porch and wonder.
Each raindrop falls. Sinks into the earth. Or puddles up on the ground.
Like us at times.
Sometimes I am sinking into the earth and refreshing it.
Sometimes I am puddling up.
Today is one of those days where the house is quiet and I'm wondering.
Comparing myself to all the other people out there with a heart for the hurting. A heart to help.
And wondering….how do they do it?
How do they get up day after day and encourage the lonely? Bind up the broken hearted?
How do they handle the heart break of those that don't accept their love? Those that will go back to their old ways of depraved living?
Despair is all around. It's engulfing at times.
Today…I'm puddling up.
How do I make a difference? How do I help release the captives?
Overwhelming. Tiring to think about.
But, I know that it's what I am called to.
I am compelled to reach the broken, the destitute, the lonely.
Praying to be the drops that soak the thirsty earth. Becoming a refreshing drink for the one who has chosen, just this once, to dig their roots deep enough to be nourished.
Refreshing. Renewing. Rebuilding. Restoring.