Teach me

Lord, teach me to love the rain—

not as one who merely endures the storm,

but as one who finds You in every drop,

who stands unafraid beneath weeping skies,

knowing that even the heaviest downpour

nourishes what is unseen beneath the surface.

Teach me to stand in the waiting—

not with anxious hands reaching for tomorrow,

but with open palms, willing to receive

the grace You pour into this present moment.

Let me not measure the worth of a season

by how quickly it passes,

but by how deeply it shapes me.

Teach me to be still—

not with the restless ache of one left behind,

but with the quiet peace of one held in place by divine hands.

Still my heart until I no longer mistake silence for absence,

or stillness for stagnation.

Let me rest in the truth that even in delay, You are working,

even in the hush, You are speaking.

Teach me to trust the unseen—

to believe that roots grow deepest in darkness,

that transformation often takes place in quiet surrender.

Remind me that not every answer comes in lightning and fire,

but sometimes in the gentle whisper

of rain against the earth,

of grace seeping slowly into my soul.

Teach me, Lord, to love what I once resented,

to embrace what I once feared,

to find You in every season,

knowing that whether the sun shines or the rain falls,

You are here, and You are enough.