Parent Of A Missionary... My Reflections

It's Sunday morning, and I hear thunder. What a relief it would be to have a rainstorm after 4 weeks of daily 100 degree heat. Yesterday the bank sign in town said 113. 
 It's to late for some of the cornfields. They lay brown and brittle the cornstalks are short they have given up on growing any taller.
 Our garden has done well. Art brought in a large watermelon today.
The squash has slowed down and the artichoke plants are beautiful, but there are no artichokes. The tomato plants are looking pretty parched, but some neighbors have not had anything grow in their gardens. The flowers come and then fall off from the heat. 
I'm thankful our first garden here has done so well. 


I'm not a farmer, and seeing the cornfields makes me so sad. Talking to the field planters they seem resolute. 
These farmers are hardworking believers. They are praying for rain.  Begging for rain,  while trusting God either way.
Amazing to watch them and listen to them talking about the drought, and making plans on what to do next.  


Last week I was in Colorado. We still own a townhouse there and have rented to our grandson. 
I lived in Aurora, Colorado for the last 39 years. 
It is a huge suburb of Denver. Last week the city seemed to come together around the victims and the families of those involved in the movie shootings. A random shooting where 12 people died and many were injured. Everyone was talking about it, and it was hard not to come across someone who knew someone who had been hurt or killed.
 The sadness enveloped the city.  


Over the last few months, we have had a situation in my family that has caused me great sorrow. It is so hard when for years I prayed and encouraged for a different outcome and those involved go the other way.  
The sadness is overbearing at times, and I have grieved heavily. 


A neighbor asked us to a different church today. We went and stayed for lunch and as we were leaving a lady came up to us and introduced herself. 
"Where are you from?" she asked. 
" Wauneta, we just moved here," we responded. 
"I used to live here, but my husband got sick and after 36 years we moved away to Witchita, Kansas." I'm not happy.I cry all the time. I've never been like this, and  I don't know what to do." 
"I'm sorry," I answer as  I put my arms around her and her tears flowed. 


Grief, sorrow, sadness can be the result of many different kinds of situations, but what can we know for sure when the tears flow and the pain and emptiness is deep? 

He hears us 
He loves us and 
He has our backs. 

We have a Savior who is acquainted with  grief and sorrow. We are not alone. We are never alone. Thank You Lord....