"For I will pour water on the thirsty land and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring and my blessing on your descendants. They will spring up like grass in a meadow, like poplar trees by flowing streams. Some will say, 'I belong to the Lord', others will call themselves by the name of Jacob; still others will write on their hand, 'The Lord's,' and will take the name Israel." (Isaiah 44:3-5 NIV)
It rained in San Antonio on Sunday. Not on yards and houses, as we’d suppose, but in sanctuaries and hearts. I caught a smattering of sprinkles in first service and then stood in the downpour during second. I wonder, have you experienced an outpouring of the Holy Spirit? There’s nothing quite like it.
It came on slowly, like a thunderstorm gathering through the first few songs. And then, suddenly, we were all caught up in the presence – a great soaking presence – the kind that transforms hearts and lives. God was present and able and ready to do big things in the surrendered.
As we sang “Holy Spirit rain down…” I marveled at the powerful rush of His presence. And then, suspiciously, the Lord brought the previous day to mind.
See, on Saturday morning, it truly had rained. In San Antonio. in July. (Nothing short of miraculous, I promise.) And I know it well because I stood out in onslaught with my husband and daughter while we problem-solved our way changing a stubborn flat tire. It was an absolute gully washer.
When Sare called from the parking lot to ask for help, Rob and I instinctively grabbed our rain gear, but they were fairly fruitless in the deluge. At one point my dear husband was on hands and knees in an inch and half of streaming water wrestling with rusted lug nuts. (He’s a hero, truly!)
My rain jacket is ‘weatherproof’ – I bought it for Italy when I didn’t want spring rains to derail our outings. On Saturday, it kept my arms and midriff dry, while every other part of me got soaked to the skin. The result was claustrophobic. My plastic jacket plastered to my sticky skin – wet outside but sweaty inside – different kinds of dampness on either side of the barrier. I was tempted to strip off the jacket and let the rain soak through evenly, but at that point, we still had plans for the day.
In song service yesterday, God reminded me of that feeling. Like a wet jacket plastered to warm skin, everything exposed to the elements is transformed by those elements. What remains under the ‘jacket protection’ remains the unchanged. What we mask off from the Holy Spirit isn’t transfigured, it’s miserable.
With this reminder, I felt the Spirit invite me to take off my spiritual rain jacket – the buttoned up part of me that wants to be neat and tidy, the heart-deep strongholds of bias, the better-than mindsets that are incongruent with Christ’s character and the person He is inviting me to to become.
Can you relate?
What are you holding back? What have you masked off? What parts of your story are you safekeeping just in case, withholding from the Spirit of the living God for later use?
Spirit-soaked people let God reign in every square inch. They hold back no part of their frames from the outpouring. They trust the Father and His sovereign weather patterns. They know that just as physical rain brings a rush of green, spiritual reign brings a rush of soul growth. Unrestrained moments in God’s presence serve to transform our sin-scarred lives into something more closely resembling Him.
"You heavens above, reign down righteousness, let the clouds shower it down. Let the earth open wide, let salvation spring up; let righteousness flourish with it, I the Lord, have created it." (Isaiah 45:8 NIV)
Lord, please forgive us for defaulting to our spiritual rain gear. You know what creatures of habit we are, how desperately we cling to our proclivities. Today we see how these flesh hold-outs hurt us, how they hold us back from the total transformation You’re pushing for. You are looking to soak through all of our flesh, rearranging us utterly and completely. May we take off our supposed self-protection and surrender every square inch to the soul deep work of Your Spirit. Amen.