When I was a little girl and it would rain in the summer time I would always ask my mother if I could go out and play in the rain. Many times she would say no not this rain, it is not the right kind of rain. After many times of the wrong kind of rain, the right rain would come. My mother would let me run out and dance in that warm summer shower.

This rain was a joy. I would dance barefoot in the soggy grass. My feet felt warm and the rain would swish up and over my eager toes. I would laugh and toss my wet hair around in the falling treasure. How refreshed and glorious were those rare summer showers that released the joy in a small girl.

I long for such a rain again I want to ask not my earthly mother but my heavenly Father if I can go dance in that refreshing rain. I want to wash away all pretense and pride. I want to be like a small child that rejoices in the warm summer rain of our Heavenly Father’s love and holiness.

Come Lord rain on me. Come Lord rain on this church. Come Lord rain, come Lord reign.