A Patch of Sunshine

“Pastor Don, it’s pouring down rain!  How are we going to paint that lady's house today?”

What do you say to a group of teens who have just posed a very pertinent question?

It was the last full day of our mission trip in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.  The previous day we had worked on Barbara's house.  Barbara had three children she was trying to raise on her own.  Six years earlier, Barbara had returned to their small hillside shack after going to the store for her husband, only to find he had committed suicide while she was gone. 

Living had been meager since then.  It had also grown more violent.  A friend of her late husband had decided that Barbara was going to be his woman whether she wanted to be or not. Whenever he got drunk and decided that he needed a woman, he would head up to the hillside shack and break down a door, or bust a window or even tear off boards from the side of the shack and break through the inner sheetrock and then brutally rape her as her three children cowered in one of the other rooms of the small house. Repeated calls to the police yielded no results since they "didn't really see nothin' happen, so how do we know ya ain't lyin'"? These episodes were repeated about two or three times per month.

Day one, we fixed a hole in her foundation that allowed the floor to droop downward away from the wall, leaving a gaping 12—inch hole for the rats to run in and out at will.  We re-roofed her sagging, leaking roof, and fixed her chimney and stovepipe to reduce the risk of this becoming a fire hazard. We re-floored her bedroom and patched sheetrock throughout the house. We painted the inside of the house and even fixed the bare—wired electrical outlets. We worked as hard as we could, but somehow, it seemed that every time we finished one project there were two more that we still needed to do.  We decided that we would have to come back and finish the exterior the next day.  We would fix all of the holes on the exterior and broken windows and then paint the house.

I was up at 5:30 am and looked outside.  Rain.  Pouring rain. Instantly, I panicked.  How would we finish Barbara's house?  A small voice reminded me that Jesus had controlled the storm on the lake and if I would just trust, He could do it again.  I relaxed and began my personal devotions.  By the time I had finished reviewing the story in scripture, I was sure that God would work a miracle for us.  During my prayer time, I asked God for a miracle.

I stepped out of my room and headed for the kitchen. One of the staff came into the dining area and informed me that the weatherman was calling for 100% chance of rain.  So far, he was right.  But the weatherman forgot to talk to my God about it.  Each time a student asked me what we were going to do, I simply answered, "We are going to pray and ask God not to let the weather interfere with our work and then go for it." 

They gave me that look that only teenagers can give.  That look that says,  "I think you'd be better off in a straight jacket," but simply shrugged their shoulders and just said, "OK, whatever".

At the close of worship, I asked everyone to join me in a prayer session where we claimed the promise found in John 14:13,14 "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it."

"Lord", I prayed, "You've given us Your promise, and we believe that we are doing Your will.  Please don't let the rain interfere with our work.  May we show Your love to Barbara and her family today.  In Jesus name, Amen."

"All right, load up."  We headed out the door into the pouring rain.  The farther up the valley we drove, the harder it rained. "Um, Pastor Don," one teen ventured, "it's still raining."

Without thinking, I shot back, "We're not there yet!  He doesn't need for it to stop yet."  We drove on in silence.  Finally we turned onto the little road that led up the hillside to Barbara's little shack.  Amazingly, the higher we drove, the less it rained, until we finally turned off into her little driveway.  Just a mist now.  "All right, guys,"  I said, "God's done His part, let's do ours!"  By the time we finished unloading ladders and tools, the sun was beginning to peek out.  Our whole group was pumped!  God had performed a miracle just for us!

It was about an hour later, as I finished pounding a nail into some siding that I happened to look off the side of the mountain down to the main road that wound through the little town of Pineville, Kentucky.  It was then that I realized that we had a bigger miracle than we had at first realized.  I called the whole group together.

"Look down there.  What do you see?" I asked.  "Why, it's raining hard down there," someone exclaimed.  "Look, you can even see trucks and cars with their windshield wipers going." 

Another joined in, “Look, it’s raining so hard down there that the road almost looks white!”

"Hey guys, look over there to the left,” someone else exclaimed. 

Another yelled, “Hey, look to the right.” 

Everyone spun around to look behind us up over the mountain.  Sure enough.  Rain.  We had rain on every side!  We were under God's umbrella as we stood there in that little patch of bright sunshine looking 500 yards in every direction at the pouring rain.

John 14:13,14 "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it."