Here Comes the Rain Again

rain

We have had heavy rain in Norway these last days.

Norwegians are used to all kinds of weather, except dry summers (!), so that usually doesn’t bother us. However, this time it was slightly different. We’ve had a lot of rain. Like, ‘cars and houses disappearing’ kind of rain. You know, the ‘don’t go looking for your car, ‘cause the road’s gone’ kind of rain? Yeah, that kind.

We live on the West Coast of Norway and are all too familiar with rain. But we also have a small summer house in the South. You may remember the ‘I think you have a landmine next to the new deck’ property? Well, let’s just say that the landmine-wannabe no longer poses a problem. Unless it functions under water.

Did you miss the story about the landmine? Don’t worry, here it is:

 

The Landmine in Our Garden

Usually, our cabin is a point of divine peace and encounter.

We enjoy the simple living, the quacking of the ducks, the howling of the owls, and the grunts from the beaver. We appreciate being disconnected from the world for a few days and just spend time with our family and the Father. The wonderful tranquility encourages us to relax, reflect, and ponder. Selah.

Well, peace just left the building.

Here’s our deck under construction.

 

The new deck

 

Remember we built a new deck, right?

We spent several weeks this spring and summer working to get the deck ready.

Our boys carried materials and nailed boards like they’d never done anything else. After a few days that’s exactly how they felt, too – like they’d never done anything else nor that they ever would…!

They did well and we really enjoyed the view from our new deck.

The view

 

Until now, that is.

Back to the heavy rains…

Our wonderful neighbor just sent us another picture.

 

Apparently, the waters are about to enter our house, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Except pray, of course, which we most certainly do. We pray. All the time. And we wait.

We can’t go there because the floods swept away the road. Besides, even if we could have gone, there’s not much we could do. All we can do, is pray – which can be just as easily done in our own safe, dry home on the West Coast.

Our situation is nothing compared to what others are going through who may have lost their homes and livelihood.  In our case, nobody will get hurt, the house is empty. Material possessions are just that – things that can be replaced or that we can live without.

We are praying our way through the flood. The heavy rains will not stop us.

 

I guess that you might be going through a flood or two in your life, too.

How do you face them? With fear? Panic, even? Resignation? Did you lose your hope? Or do you sit back and look for the One who walks the waters?

What if you take a moment and pray?

Just tell him how you feel.

Father, I’ve lost my job, but I trust that you will provide for me and give me a new one. Thank you for your faithfulness.

Jesus, my health is ruined, but I want to praise you for carrying my pain and suffering on the cross. My life is yours, and I welcome whatever you want to do through it.

Holy Spirit, I feel so lonely, but I invite you to transform every cell of my being, to chase out my darkest fears and to fill my deepest longings.

Whatever rains you are facing, bring them to him.

Pray.
Then wait.
Relax.
Observe what he does.

And give thanks.

Author Marian Nygard

I live in Norway with my husband, Thomas. Together we have four children. We are passionate about words, music, thankfulness and fun, not necessarily in that order. In addition to being an author, I love to tell stories and I am constantly looking for God’s fingerprint in everyday life.

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