You visit the earth and water it;
you greatly enrich it;
the river of God is full of water…
I looked at the weather app on my iPhone this morning: “Snow in the mountains; 42˚and rain in the valley.” Good! I love rain. It makes me want to find a quiet place, pick up a book and idle the hours away.
David saw something more: Rain is a sign and a sacrament, pointing us to God's eternal love for growing things. Rain is God "visiting the earth" to water and enrich it (65:9).
Showers sweep across the plowed ground, "watering it's furrows, settling it's ridges, softening the dirt clods, blessing it with growth." Rain is God, "walking" through the earth like Johnny Appleseed, leaving behind His bounty: "The paths on which He walks overflow with goodness" (65:10, 11).
Here's a dimension of truth most folks have lost. It is a vision, a perspective, a way of looking at things. Put simply, it is the capacity to see through things rather than at them.
Nature is a signpost pointing to God, but tragically, most people only look at the sign. C.S. Lewis described our foolishness as a "dog-like" way of seeing. If, for example, you point at your dog's food dish and say "Eat," he will stare at your finger, confusing the sign with the thing signified.
A little thing like rain reveals the face of God if we have eyes to see it. The little hills, the pastures, the valleys take in God's love and "shout for joy!" (65:13).
So do I!
Sweet the rain’s new fall
Sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dew fall
On the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness
Of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness
Where His feet pass.