Making it Through Life's Storms

Singing in the Rain

By Lisa Carter, Equatorial Guinea

As a little girl growing up in a small New England town, I always loved a snowstorm. It seemed to hush the world. The streets were bare, and people stayed inside to keep warm and safe. Of course, having no school meant warm clothes, lots of free time and cups of hot chocolate. This event was always a respite for me from the noise and busyness of life. As the snow quieted our little town, it always seemed to quiet my heart.

Obviously, here in sultry Equatorial Guinea I am far away from snowy New England days. Yet, in Africa, a similar thing happens to me when it rains. Here, when it rains, it RAINS! Storms like we’ve had the last couple of weeks put a stop to the city’s activities. Rain provides a respite from the noise and commotion of life as well as from the scorching-hot African sun. Not only does the rain bring quiet, it fills our well and provides the water we need to bathe, wash clothes and dishes and filter drinking water.

Just as snow brings hardship as well as blessing, so do the downpours in Africa. The thundering rain brings out robbers who know that the noise of their break-in will be drowned out. Hillsides turn into mudslides, and unpaved roads become slippery traps for unsuspecting drivers. We learned this fact the hard way last week.

We were returning from a trip to a faraway village named Akurenam. Our last day in the village was a rainy Sunday. We could hardly hear Jason’s message due to the morning-long loud, pounding rain on the tin roof of the church. This prolonged deluge left the dirt road going through the mountainside jungle a muddy mess. We would have delayed our return, but I had not brought enough anti-malarial prophylaxis for our family to stay longer. We packed up our car, got our son, Kenyon, buckled in and headed in the direction of home. We hadn’t gone far when an obstacle blocked our progress. A huge truck carrying cement for a construction project in the village had gotten stuck in the deep mud. The dense jungle prevented us from going around it so we waited…and waited…and waited.

We grew more tired, and Kenyon became fussy as the afternoon droned on. To top things off, a giant dump truck coming to the rescue rammed into the side of our car, thankfully not causing great damage, but frazzling our nerves. Eventually, the heavy truck was pulled free, and we were on our way, though much delayed. For hours we drove along muddy mountainside roads in the middle of the jungle with no civilization around for miles.

Jason held tightly to the steering wheel, praying as he drove. It was definitely stressful but not unlike other village trips. It seems that each time we come home from a village, something happens for which we are not prepared. On our first trip home we encountered the results of a horrific motorcycle accident and almost had to transport two badly injured men into the city. The next trip home was with a rooster (a gift) fluttering about the backseat of our car, and the last one, with our little monkey, Mario, who was not yet used to people, doing some interesting things with his own feces.

At one point on this trip I came to realize that many of the things I have learned from the Lord made a little more sense to me. Darkness fell and the greatly awaited peace and quiet of Kenyon sleeping helped us to feel more settled. It was abruptly ended though, with his inconsolable crying after we hit a bump and he was jerked awake. After trying to comfort him by stroking his hair, whispering calm words, offering water, a cookie, etc., I could do nothing except scoop him out of his car seat and hold him tightly in my arms with his head nestled on my shoulder. I softly began to sing all his favorite songs. As I sang over him he was quieted. (Kenyon loves music! He wakes up each morning with a song on his heart—literally. He starts with “Jesus Loves Me” then goes to “Joy to the World” and other Guinean worship and praise songs.) As I held my son in my arms and softly sang, looking at the brightest moon I have seen in my life, it hit me! It has been so hard for me to accept, internalize and live out, but there is a lesson God has been trying to teach me for a long time now.

Sometimes He chooses to grow us through sunny times. These are seasons of encouragement, affirmation and smiles, where the fruits of our labors bring sweetness. Our prayers seem to be answered, and we feel the gentle touch of our heavenly Father like warm sunlight on our faces or a perfect breeze passing by. These moments are so important to our growth…to our vision of the Lord and reflection of Him. These mountain-top experiences are like heavenly rays of the Lord’s goodness. It is easy for us to sing.

Rainy seasons also grace our lives, and these also are a part of the path God has for us. Moreover, they are actually good for us…necessary roads that lead us closer to Him…that press us deeper into His heart. It is right in the center of difficult experiences that God preserves and refines us, not where He fails us. Just as we sing in the sunny places of life, we must learn to sing triumphantly right in the middle of the dark, rainy places—just as Kenyon inspired me to do in the middle of a stressful situation.

I thought singing God’s praises was only for the sunny seasons or for after I have come through tough times. However, recently a dear sister in the Lord has been an encouragement to me in this area. The devotional, Streams in the Desert, has taught me that the Lord does not want me to wait for deliverance and then rejoice in Him but to learn to rejoice and sing to Him right in the center of the trouble. Psalms 50:15 says to glorify the Lord in the times of trouble and Romans 8:37 says that in all things we are more than conquerors. I have been learning that we must win the victory in the fiery furnace.

The greatest example of this is seen in Christ’s death. In Colossians 2:15 we see that Jesus triumphed not only after, but in His humiliation and death. I so often complain, but I see the Lord wants me to sing a song of triumph on this side of heaven, right in the trials I find myself in just now. This is real triumph—not over trouble but through it, not after passing through the many trials of life but in them.

The reason we triumph is that we don’t pass through the storms of life in vain. God has a loving purpose to wean us from all that we think is necessary in life, so we are right where He wants us—at the foot of the cross. When we are weak and humbled before Him, He can fill us with His joy (not in the temporal things of this life, but in Him) and live His life through us. God assures us that through the waters and fires He is with us and will preserve us. Therefore I can sing along with Kenyon that there is joy in my heart not because my life has been easy (it most certainly has not been for years) but because God is with me and for me, working His good purposes in and through me.

I may experience passing health problems, stressful situations, tremendous pressures, loss, failure and humiliation, but I always have reason for joy and because of that, I can sing and rejoice in the Lord…even through tears. And when I sing, surrounded by swirling rains, my God holds me tightly, and He too sings over me quieting my soul (Psalm 32:7 and Zephaniah 3:17).

Lisa and her husband, Jason, with their young son, teach national believers in Equatorial Guinea.

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