It was just a rainbow (or was it?)

Today was one of those interesting days. There were hopes and that I'd been counting on that didn't work out quite how I thought. There were pressures within and without, and I wasn't sure how I was going to do everything I needed to or how various needs would be met. Surely, I told myself, this wasn't the sort of day a college graduate should have. I should have it more together...be doing different things in different ways or something. And, as is not hard for me to do, I questioned whether I was really where God had led me or whether paths I'd been walking for months had all just been great illusions--whether the hopes I had cherished so long were really groundless.

And in all this, I KNEW I was sinning against a holy God. The flesh was waging its carnal warfare and my spirit slothed in laziness as it failed to fight back. A good friend reminded me that selfishness and lack of trust were rearing their angry heads and she urged me not to let them take any more root in these circumstances. And I was convicted, but fearful to trust God when already I had failed to keep so many of His commands (trust. hope. love.) in just a few hours.

And there I was, in desperate need of God's provision and yet knowing that I was not walking in His ways as I ought to be. So I asked, "why ought God to be kindly disposed to me after all of this?" And before the words were even out of my mouth, the Spirit reminded me, "Because of His Son."

Later this evening, my sisters and I were out driving together, when it started to rain. But the sun was shining and it I started to hope for a rainbow. Just then, I recalled a passage in Isaiah that has always been precious to me for various reasons. It references Noah--the one who saw God's establishment of the covenantal rainbow. It reads,

". . .' with everlasting love I will have compassion on you,' says the Lord, your Redeemer. 'This is like the days of Noah to me: as I swore that the waters of Noah should no more go over the earth . . . for the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,' says the Lord, who has compassion on you." (Is. 54:8-10)

Then, it occured to me that perhaps, in this state of weakness and repentance, I should just pray for God to show me a rainbow. And in an instant, I had prayed and told my sisters. And eager to see an answered prayer, I kept thinking about it for about five miles through farm territory. Eventually, I had checked the mirrors enough--twisting my neck for any possible sign of that multi colored wonder--that it was going to get dangerous! So I decided to just go ahead, pull over, and step out of the car in faith to see if there were any rainbows.

And there, stretching over green fields glittering with fresh rain, was the largest rainbow I've ever seen. It stretched across the entire horizon in a perfect arch, magnificent in its beauty but even greater for the testimony of love it bore. Within a short handful of minutes, it was gone.

As I hopped back into the minivan and finished the trek to soccer with the girls, my sister Susanna looked over at me with a simple and honest question:

"Think you can trust God now?"

Maybe the pickup truck farmers whizzing by the shoulder and our hazard lights didn't check their rearview mirror to see the rainbow. And maybe if they did, it was just a rainbow. But today, I wonder, was it? Or was it God's reassurance in the still small voice, "I gave you a rainbow just because I am a God of steadfast love. I am your Father. You have asked for bread and I will not give you stones. Trust me and press on."