A Drop in the Ocean

May my teaching drop like the rain, my speech condense like the dew, like gentle rain on grass, like showers on new growth. – Deuteronomy 32:2 (NRSV) 

The average raindrop weighs less than a human eyelash.  

This does not feel true. Mostly because all my clear memories of rain feel more substantial than that. Driving through a thunderstorm, the wipers going high-speed, wondering where to pull over. Sitting on a ferry boat deck off the coast of Maine, a cold rainy spray permeating my wool hat and (allegedly) waterproof jacket. Soaked in a surprise summer downpour, hand in hand with my first real love.  

Nonetheless, it is true. It’s actually been studied, raindrops counted and weighed, splashy ones and misty ones alike. The fact is the average raindrop is lighter than a grain of sand. It’s also true that, for every notable precipitation event I’ve experienced, there have been 1000 unremarkable ones: Drizzly, tea-infused afternoons. Mossy spring showers. Foggy fall nights. 

And yet, all together, raindrops create wonders as vast and deep as the ocean.  

Faith is like this. You may have holy memories that drench you. The prayer you repeated over and over driving to the hospital, the life-shifting conversation with your pastor, the baptism of your first grandchild.  

But the ocean of your faith was not filled this way. For every downpour, there were dewdrops: the church member who accepted your apology, the butterfly that paused on your finger, the Bible passage that surprised and delighted you.  

No one gets deep faith all at once. Today, two weeks into Lent, you might be waiting for a deluge of devotion. But don’t miss a sprinkle because you’re waiting for a shower. Soak up your God-moments, however they fall.  

Prayer
God, may your love be like a gentle rain, leading me to new growth. Amen.

About the Author
Rev. Kate Kennedy is a New Hampshire-based UCC pastor pursuing a career in family therapy.