Autumn Rains Coming

About a decade ago, I came across a bible verse about autumn rain. I didn't understand what it meant (agriculturally or spiritually), but I knew it was significant for me, personally, so I earmarked it in my brain. Fast forward to a couple weeks ago, I'm directed by God to read Psalm 84 and, once again, I come across this:

"As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a source of spring water; even the autumn rain will cover it with blessings." (verse 6)

There it was again. Autumn rain. (Random fact: autumn is one of my favorite words in the English language...visions of bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils fill my mind...iykyk). Let me give you some backstory into where I am in this current season, so you can understand why this phrase has come to mean so much to me. 

Every year I pray for God to give me a word and verse that frames the coming year. The word He gave me at the start of the year was new. After 8 years of pouring our hearts, time, energy, giftings and resources into our local church, my husband and I felt God call us away from that body of believers. It wasn't a regular calling away to start a new church plant or to build up another body of believers. It was a heart-wrenching, painful and tear-soaked decision after we experienced deep and pointed wounds by the very people we had been doing faithful ministry alongside of for years. We faithfully spoke for over a year into the toxic spiritual environment we saw grow and fester, but to no avail. In May, we felt released that this was no longer our fight and that our growing concerns had fallen on deaf ears. So, we uprooted our children from the only church they had ever known, the church that was more like family than friends, and we retreated to having church in our home each week. This is the backstory for where I currently find myself. Now, back to the scriptures.

The Valley of Baca isn’t a real place on the map. It’s symbolic in the scriptures, and it represents a weary season wrought with tears. Literally translated, it means the “Valley of weeping.” Other than the season right after my dad left when I was 5, I don’t remember a season filled with so many tears and such deep grief. The kind of grief for which you have no words, only utterances. If you know me personally, you know I detest crying in front of others. Aside from the puffy eyes and stuffy nose, it represents weakness to me. I know it isn’t truly a weakness, but years of trying to appear stronger than I am (both to myself and to others) propelled me into this false belief. Well, this season has broken me. I’ve cried in front of more people this year than probably the majority of my life. I think I found Baca...

"As they pass through the Valley of Baca,"

“As they pass through the valley,” meaning, it’s not a destination. The valley is a rest stop, of sorts. The season of suffering, pain, trial and tears won’t last forever. Thank God it is but a season. But, it is a necessary season because of what it produces.

“[T]hey make it a source of spring water;” 

The tears have a purpose if we let them. How can we turn these tears into a source of life and growth? Well, we can’t, but what we can do is entrust ourselves to the sovereignty and care of our loving Father. We are simply called to trust God and wait for Him to move, to wrap ourselves up in Him so fully that we are strong like the strands of a cord (qava - H6960). This is what it looks like to wait well; it's what I mean when I say "don't waste the wait." It is through this reliance on God that He forms and molds us into the image of Christ through the power of His Spirit at work within us. What a beautiful picture of the Trinity filling the life of every believer. We are bolstered by the God of the universe, for He is within and surrounding us every step of the way on this pilgrimage of life. 

"(E)ven the autumn rain will cover it with blessings."

Agriculturally, autumn rains break the drought of the summertime. They are vital for soil recovery, as they replenish the dirt with much-needed minerals after depletion by various crops throughout the year. And, for late-year crops, the autumn rains are vital for growth, as new seedlings are planted in rich soil. 

Spiritually, autumn rains are waters of refreshing. Rain sent from heaven to quench a parched and weary soul. They restore the vitality that was lost and position the believer for new growth. New. There's that word again, the one God gave me at the start of this year. Honestly, I was really hoping for a new car or a new body; but, alas, God had different things in mind. 

For about a year, I've had a vision in my head that God gave me. I saw moist soil - rich and dark. I saw a young plant swaying in the breeze - vibrant and green. The soil was being turned. I thought this was an image of tilling the soil within my heart to position for new growth in Christ and deeper roots. But, amid prayerfully confronting toxic patterns within our church, I heard the word 'transplant.' Since leaving, God has revealed to me that the image of the plant was actually an image of a newly uprooted plant that was being freshly planted in deep, rich soil. 

In the wake of exiting our church (not only as members, but as leaders), we have retreated to home church with our boys. A time of healing as we peel away all the unnecessary busyness that so often accompanies the Western church and return to the basics of doing church according to the example laid out in scripture. This time of retreat conjures up images of a farmer bringing a weak plant into his house to lovingly care for and nurse it back to health - that is what the summer has been for us. Our season in the Valley of Baca has ironically aligned with the agricultural season of planting - a harsh winter in which our souls were crushed; a spring that should have seen life if not for the toxic soil in which we were planted, but instead saw an uprooting; and, the drought of summer through which we retreated from the elements and clung to God as a lifeline for sustenance. Now, as we approach the autumn season, we are looking at new churches, albeit cautiously. Could we soon be transplanted from the safety of the farmer's house into the rich, dark soil I saw in my vision? Will our season of newness in another church body align with the autumn rains of blessing? Time will tell. In the meantime, we are ever prayerful He bestows wisdom upon us as we follow His leading into a new soil, a new church, a new season. 

"Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it." (1 Thessalonians 5:23-24, ESV)