When it rains...

It has been raining for days here in Pennsylvania. Not the gentle kind of rain that comes and goes in an hour. The kind that lingers. The skies have been painted in layers of gray, heavy clouds hanging low enough to feel. The trees sway under steady winds. The ground stays soaked. The air itself feels weighted, like creation is holding its breath. It has a sacred feel to it but heavy enough that makes life feel different.

Quiet.

Heavy.

Almost Holy.

And every time life feels like this, people always say the same phrase:

“When it rains, it…”

Grows.

Oh was that not what you were thinking???

Okay, okay, the saying is:

When it rains, it pours.

And trust me, lately life has.

It has poured stress.

Poured exhaustion.

Poured unexpected problems.

Poured fear.

Poured pressure.

The kind of season where it feels like every time you finally steady yourself, another wave crashes into you before you can breathe again. The kind of season where your soul feels tired where there is no amount of rest that makes it go away. The kind of season that feels heavy, each step feels like you are dragging through. That is the kind of season it has felt like.

Well... kind of. Because while life has been pouring, so has the presence and blessings of the Lord.

Last night my molar broke unexpectedly.

My car needs an inspection and oil change.

Surgery is approaching faster than I want it to.

Medical concerns keep surfacing one after another.

Family stress has been heavy.

Emotionally, mentally, physically—it has all felt overwhelming.

And if I am honest, there are moments I have sat quietly and just stared, wondering how so many things can pile up at once and how I am still able to stand up and move on.

Maybe you know that feeling too.

The kind of moments where your mind never fully rests.

Where your body is tired, but your thoughts keep running.

When you sleep a full night and wake up feeling like you didn't sleep at all.

Where prayers become tears because you do not even know what words to say anymore.

And yet, in the middle of all this pouring, the Lord has been gently changing the sentence in my heart.

Because yes… when it rains, it pours.

But it also grows.

This is why it has been a "kind of" moment of the world feeling overwhelming and like I am dragging through. Because yes, it has been a lot but the Lord has been teaching me so much in the season too. The Lord has been teaching me things I never would have learned in comfort. It has been stretching me, but it also has been deepening me.

So, I challenge you with the idea that: When it rains, it grows.

Storms do not only flood the ground. They soften it.

Rain does not only make things messy. It waters seeds hidden underneath the surface.

And sometimes the very season that feels like it is drowning you is the exact season God is using to grow roots deeper than they have ever been before.

Yesterday, I was sitting with the Lord in the middle of one of those heavy moments. Crying. Processing. Praying. Trying to make sense of emotions that felt tangled and loud all at once.

I looked out the window toward my backyard and saw a rabbit. That part was normal. Last summer my garden basically became an all-you-can-eat buffet for rabbits, so seeing them around is nothing new. But this time something made me stop and watch longer. Behind the larger rabbit was a tiny baby bunny.

Small. Fragile. Barely hopping straight. The little thing bounced clumsily through the wet grass, completely unaware of how vulnerable it really was. And then suddenly, a bird swooped down toward it and landed in front of it.

Before I could even fully process what, I was seeing, the mother rabbit moved instantly. She lunged between the danger and her baby, chasing the bird away before pulling the tiny bunny close underneath her body. Covering it. Protecting it. Shielding it from what it could not protect itself from. While the rain continued to pour and the world did not stop in the midst of that.

And standing there with tears running down my face while rain hit the windowpane beside me, I felt the Lord speak to my spirit so clearly:

“This is what I am doing for you.”

Because the baby bunny still stood in the rain.

The storm did not magically disappear.

The wind did not stop blowing.

The ground was still muddy.

But it was not abandoned in the middle of it.

And neither are we.

Sometimes we think God’s goodness means preventing storms entirely. But often His faithfulness looks different than we expected. Sometimes His faithfulness looks like covering us while the rain still falls. Knowing we are wet and cold but protecting us from the bigger dangers we do not perceive as dangerous. I think of myself as that little baby bunny, probably thinking that bird wanted to be friends, not wanting to hurt them. Instead, the Lord sees the danger that I do not see and swiftly protects and saves and comforts.

And each day, that looks different. Right now, it may look like:

Strength showing up for one more day when we thought we had none left.

Peace arriving in moments that should have crushed us.

Provision somehow appearing right on time.

Surviving seasons we honestly thought would break us.

The Lord never promised we would avoid storms.

But He did promise He would be with us in them.

And maybe that is the miracle we overlook too often. Not that the rain stops immediately. But that somehow, we are still standing underneath His covering while it pours.

“When it rains, it grows.”

Rain grows roots that sunshine never could.

Flowers do not fear storms because they were designed to need the water.

And maybe, just maybe, some of us are in growing seasons disguised as breaking seasons.

Maybe God is strengthening endurance in places that used to quit.

Maybe He is teaching trust where fear once ruled.

Maybe He is producing compassion through pain.

Maybe He is deepening faith through uncertainty.

Because some of the strongest gardens bloom after the harshest storms.

So no, this season is not easy.

I am not pretending everything feels okay.

I am not pretending the weight is light.

I am not delirious or blinded to the truth.

There are still tears.

Still stress.

Still questions.

Still moments where I feel overwhelmed.

But there is also this unshakable truth:

The same God who walks with me in sunshine is still God in the storm.

And if you are in a storm right now too—if your heart feels tired, your mind feels heavy, and your life feels like it keeps pouring—please hear this:

You are not forgotten in the rain.

God sees every tear you have cried in secret.

He sees the prayers you are too exhausted to finish.

He sees the weight you carry quietly so nobody else worries.

He sees the fear you try to hide behind a smile.

And even now, He is still covering you.

One day you will look back and realize this storm did not destroy you.

It watered something eternal.

So, when it rains in your life, do not only look for the flood. Look for the growth.

Because buried underneath this season are seeds that cannot bloom without rain.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still. — Exodus 14:14