As I was having quiet time with God last week, I looked out my window at our degenerate water spout. I don't know exactly what is wrong with it except that all the water goes out the wrong end of the gutter so that the right end of the gutter only allows a slow drip down the water spout. As I looked at the drips of water, I told God I was feeling just like that. While it seems my sisters all around me are filled with these bubbling, sometimes gushing streams, of living water, I just get these drips that splatter onto the concrete below them and trickle away. I feel like my sisters are on the crazy water slides while I am on the lazy river. As they woosh past me, they smile and wave and invite me along but I don't have enough depth or angle to do anything but trickle.
I was reminded of Beth Moore's reference to ducks in her Believing God book. She mused about three ducks she had seen splashing and fighting over a muddy puddle, obviously not big enough for the three of them. Just over the hill was a beautiful pristine pond with more than enough room. But the ducks were oblivious to this fact and stayed in the puddle. I told God that I *know* the pond is over the hill but I just don't know how to get there.
That is when He showed me the grass. The concrete slab where the rain trickles down ends in the yard and right at the end of the slab, the grass growing around it is taller than the grass further out in the yard. Even though the rain trickles and doesn't collect into anything obvious, the water is still doing a job and watering the grass around it. I may not be gushing anywhere but I am not standing still either. And sometimes, the ground accepts a light, steady rain more readily than a heavy downpour. Sometimes, a light steady rain is all that I can handle.