I hardly know where to start, because today the sky finally opened up and poured. It was no timid drizzle, but a true downpour, and I am honestly in awe.
Nagaland is unprepared for drought. Since the last Durga Puja in October, the rains have vanished, winter and spring both slipped by bone-dry, and even Holi arrived without a drop. We waited, praying for relief.
Nagaland has no safety net against drought, and people like us, who literally depend on the rain (for our crops), hope was beginning to thin out.
I was away for two weeks in January, and when I returned, the drought still clung to the land. Dimapur was so choked with dust it could have been a scene from Mad Max. Last December brought one of the driest Christmases I can remember, and we ran the car AC in winter just to breathe easier.
Then came February, and still no rain. No seasonal rains to awaken spring.
I remember checking the weather app every week, only to see 0% chance of rain.
But today, March 13, the rain finally arrived in force, and the forecast promises more. Earlier showers barely dented the dust, but this downpour revived the leaves, scrubbed the grass clean, and coaxed the spring buds awake.
This rain also stirred memories of my own drought in matters of the heart. With two family weddings this month, the familiar question echoed: ‘Bilat, what about you?’ I laugh it off, but inside, I am just as uncertain.
I appear composed on the outside, but when I retreat to my room for devotional time, that is when the questioning starts, and I crawl down the rabbit hole of an existential crisis.
Scripture has been my anchor, but just a few nights ago, frustration boiled over. I pleaded with God to speak, to answer, to break the silence. I have prayed, fasted, and watched doors close. I received a prophetic word, prayers, and encouragement. I have listened to sermons about contentment in singleness from pastors with families, and heard every cliché: 'You will find someone when you stop looking,' so I stopped. Then, 'Your standards are too high,' or 'Try dating apps.' Friends have tried to set me up, but my heart found no peace, so I declined. I know what I want, and I refuse to rush just because I am in my forties. The pressure is real, but I am grateful that academia keeps me busy and gives me purpose.
And then this happened: A few nights ago, as I was praying (again), I challenged the Lord, saying, 'Hello? It’s me again. ‘What is up? Speak now, your servant is listening.
Give me a word, or else I’m not moving from this place. I’m going to kneel here the whole night till you speak to me.
And you won’t believe what happened. This is where things got interesting.
The Lord reminded me of Elijah’s prayer for rain in 1st Kings 18:41.
It didn’t rain in the land for three and a half years.
“V42 Elijah climbed to the top of Mount Carmel and fell to the ground and prayed…
V43 Then he said to his servant, “Go and look out toward the sea.”
The servant went and looked, but he returned to Elijah and said, “I didn’t see anything.”
Seven times Elijah told him to go and look, and seven times he went.
V44, Finally, the seventh time, his servant told him, ‘I saw a little cloud the size of a hand rising from the sea.
V45 and sure enough, the sky was soon black with clouds, and a heavy wind brought a terrific rainstorm.
And I started reading every commentary available online from this narrative!
It was bang on. Like, whoa, dang! This is so cool.
I was refreshed, recharged, and excited to the core.
For me, this story echoed the droughts we all face and why persistence in prayer matters, not just once, but perhaps seven times.
Maybe this lesson is not just for those like me waiting on the Lord. It could speak to anyone, in any season of waiting. Those in dire need of a miracle, of answered prayers, of healing, of restoration, of confirmation.. we pray and we wait and nothing seems to happen. Like a land dry from drought…
Dry seasons can make our prayers feel lost, answers out of reach, and the journey endless.
Some prayers are answered swiftly, but for others, perhaps it is on the seventh try that we glimpse a small cloud, promising not just rain, but a downpour, so never give up, our Miracle is just around the corner. It’s waiting at the threshold .
Let it rain, open the floodgates of heaven, and until that happens, remain persistent in prayer.
