Leviticus 26:3-4a & 6a & 12
“If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase. … I will give peace in the land, and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid. … And I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people.”
How sweet would it be if our faithfulness to Christ had immediate benefits, friend? Picture it: your city’s suffering through a three-week drought, the skies are as clear as glass across the horizon, but there’s an afternoon raincloud perched above your lawn just because you chose to spend time in fervent prayer this morning. Further, a band of burglars are methodically hitting homes in your neighborhood, knocking off a house per month, and some of your neighbors have moved, others have fortified their homes with expensive doors and security systems, but not you. You just gave a hefty tithe to church on Sunday, so now you can sleep completely worry free! You can even open your doors and windows all night long to let the cool breezes in. Yet, I wouldn’t even need that miraculous a fulfillment. I’d just like to be able to pray over my four-year-old daughter tonight, ask God to give her sweet dreams and unencumbered sleep, and know that I won’t be awakened at 3 am by her screaming from a recurring nightmare.
I’d love more than anything to be able to carry this Leviticus 26 promise before the Throne of Grace today and say, “See, LORD—I’ve done my part of the bargain! Now do yours, please!”, yet, I’d be a fool to let that desire rob me of the fulfilment God offers by His presence. Oh, that I wouldn’t miss Him today wishing for better! Friend, our Good Shepherd is leading us hand-in-hand through the valley of death’s shadow, holding us fast through the seasons of sorrow, lightening our countenance as we dwell on Him by faith rather than our circumstances.
Like Corrie Ten Boom singing in a Nazi death camp and Paul singing in a Roman dungeon and my wife singing in the hospital bed after our miscarriage, God brings a song in the night season. A peace in the conflict. A calm in the chaos. A raincloud to end the drought.