Oh Lord, Let it Rain!

O Lord, Let It Rain!

 

Back in 1935, a drought gripped Kansas and prompted W.L. White, editor of the Emporia Gazette, to write the following prayer.

O Lord, in thy mercy, grant us rain, and by that we don’t mean a shower. We want to go out and watch the lightning rip across the southwestern sky in hot, blue forks as the fat clouds roll in on us. We want to hurry home to close the house with the first fat drops the size of marbles, on a suddenly rising wind, chasing us and plunking on the car hood. We want to scramble all over the house, just as the first sheets descend, frantically slamming down the windows.

            O Lord of Hosts, we want to look out of the windows and watch the regiments of close-packed raindrops march diagonally down. We want to hear the gurgle of the gutters under the eaves, and then the sputter of the downspout.

            God of Israel, Isaac, and Jacob, let it come down so hard, let the drops dance so high that the street and sidewalks seem covered with a six-inch fog of spatter-drops. Then let it just keep up for a while, and then begin to taper off, and then turn right around and get a lot worse, swishing, pounding, splattering, pouring, drenching, the thunder coming  - crackity – BAM – and the lightning flashing so fast and furious you can’t tell which flash goes with which peal of thunder; so that all the women will get scared and climb on top of the beds and scream at you not to get too close to that window.

            And then, O Jealous God, repeat the whole act about three times, and in the middle of the second time we will climb the attic stairs and put the wash pan under that tiny leak in the roof which usually you can’t even notice in an ordinary rain. And after a couple of hours, kind of taper it down, O Lord, to a good, steady rain – not a drizzle, but a businesslike one that keeps up until just about dawn and then spits a few drops occasionally during the morning from the gray sky.

            Kansas is indeed the Promised Land, O Lord, and if it gets a break, it will flow with milk and honey. But we can’t live much longer on promises. So in Thine own way and in Thine own time, make up Thy mind, O Lord, and we will bow before Thy judgment, and praise Thine everlasting name, Amen.