Pray for rain. You hear it these days from elected officials and weather experts, and it slips into almost any coffee shop talk in our rural parts. We expect to hear it in churches, but when “pray for rain” slips into everyday talk, it feels dire, and I feel a sense of urgency, for the weather and circumstances I cannot control, not unlike many difficult life situations.
While not actively farming or ranching, I experienced a drought in my own life since the 2017 column, not from the lack of rain but from difficult life circumstances, not feeling any hope of growth or reaping a bounty. And for the first time in my adult life, I truly know I was carried by prayers and support, from strangers, acquaintances, friends and family.
When someone says or writes "I'll pray for you," I used to question if they did. It's not for me to question someone's prayer life, but it was a negative thought I gave space and consideration to. Then I learned, they do pray. While many prayers go unanswered in our set timelines, greater blessings are set forth.
When we say "pray for rain," do we? Yes, we do. Prayer can transform your fields, pastures and life, in a drought of any kind. We're never alone in prayer.
The time is now to pray for rain.
Today, this week, this month, year, and the next, pray for rain.
Pray for the crops, the animals, the stark and bare pastures, dried-out fields. Even rain isn’t going to bring them back to bounty this season, but any rain in our severe drought-stricken areas will quench any drops of moisture blessed from the sky this summer.
In a drought of any kind, as I wrote four years ago, I direct my prayers to the people impacted by drought.
Pray for how they’re managing their stress levels. For their families. Their loved ones. Their employees.
Pray for discernment in the financial decisions they’re needing to make.
Pray for peace and guidance in the painful losses they’re experiencing from a severe drought across the land.
Praying. Rallying. Supporting.
It’s not enough to talk (or write) about the need, but the quiet, dedicated act of prayer changes lives as well as our people, in our communities, on our farms and ranches, I believe.
Your prayer life isn’t unnoticed. Your prayers transform. I’ve experienced them and now it’s my turn to pray for rain and pray for the drought-stricken people in need.
Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.