Waiting for Rain

When I was a kid, one of my favorite authors was Shel Silverstein . Tonight, at a local writer's group, God and I had a little chat. Okay, well, it went more like, God talked and I listened.

Oddly enough, I didn't get a Scripture, but a Shel Silverstein poem. If you've read his stuff, you'll recognize it. (not an exact quote, but close enough)

Lazy lazy lazy Jane. She wants a drink of water, so she waits and waits and waits for it to rain.

So here's the rest of the conversation:

Me: I don't get it.
Him: You're Jane
Me: It rained today. I didn't drink it. Acid rain, you know.
Him: It's a metaphor.
Me: Okay, so I'm waiting for rain when I should just get up off my butt and get a glass of water.
Him: Yup.
Me: What's the rain stand for?
Him: So we're going to Egypt now?
Me: Huh?
Him: Denial... you're good at that.
Me: Okay, fine. So we're talking about my writing.
Him: Yup.
Me: I'm waiting on my crit group to send me back what they think and then I'll send it to the agent.
Him: Uh-huh.
Me: Can we get to the point please? I don't get it.
Him: Yes you do.
Me: No, I don't. If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
Him: Ask for help.
Me: Um, for what?
Him: How about all the things you're stressing out over?
Me: Yeah, but...
Him: Please let's not have the conversation we have to have whenever you say, yeah but... to Me.
Me: Okay, fine. Can I have the point now?
Him: You're living in a vacuum. Don't continue living in a vacuum. You're waiting for rain, but there's already water all around you. Dive in!

Seriously, I think some days, when God and I are together, He has to wear a sign that says, "I'm with stupid."

I've been in a funky holding pattern. Mostly that I know what I need to do, but not doing it, because I don't know the how of doing it. I'm stuck on really weird little things, and instead of reaching out and getting help to learn how to do it, I sit here, stressing over how to do it and trying to figure it out on my own. It should be pretty simple to say, "I need help." And it's not so much that I'm the sort of person who can't ask for help. Oddly enough, it never occurred to me that I had help.

As I mull over this silly little Silverstein poem, I marvel at the odd things God uses to speak to us. Who'd have thought that something I memorized as a child, something that had no bearing on anything, became the thing that smacked me in the face when I didn't even know I needed it.

I know there's probably a deep life lesson in this, and more than likely, more than one. Which is why I share this story. The God whispers I share are more than just for me. The funny thing is, as I get to the end of the post and try to think of some witty way to end, all I can think of is how thankful I am that in third grade, I had a teacher who introduced us to poetry and made us memorize a few little ditties. I hated it at the time, as I have a terrible time memorizing anything. But now, when God can't get through to me any other way, He can use Shel Silverstein, Lewis Carroll, Robert Frost, and even Shakespeare. Okay, I admit, Shakespeare didn't happen in third grade. But truly, it is the reading I did as a child that remains to have the greatest impact on my life. And okay, fine, I'll even admit to the fact that most of the Scripture I know is also from my childhood. I'm starting to get better and learn more now, but the most precious verses came from when I was a little girl.

And maybe the point in all of this is that sometimes we're looking for deep wisdom, or a "new" answer, but as we wait for it to rain, we're surrounded by wells, deeper than the wisdom we seek, and all we need to do is dive in.