The plea for rain in that drought-stricken land rises from a deep place, and it is right to cry out to the One who alone can answer. There are no rain dances, no vanities of the nations, no human schemes that can open the heavens. The Lord our God made all these things, and so we wait upon Him, for He is the only giver of showers. He is not deaf to the bleating of thirsty flocks or the cracked lips of His creatures. When His people in the wilderness were parched, He did not rebuke them for needing water; He commanded the rock to yield it. That rock, we know, was a shadow of Christ, smitten once so that living water might flow freely. Now we need not smite again. By faith we speak to the Rock, asking, and He gives.
And yet, the Scriptures also show that drought can be the mercy of a jealous God, calling a wayward people back. When Israel turned to false gods, the heavens became brass and the rain turned to dust. The prophet Elijah stood before a king and declared that neither dew nor rain would fall except by the word of the Lord. The land suffered, but so did the false prophets who had promised peace. Even the prophet’s own brook dried up, teaching him that God alone sustains beyond every visible supply. So while we pray against the physical drought, we must also pray for the hearts in that region. Where there is famine of bread, there may be a far deeper famine of the Word. And where there is repentance, God can open storehouses of grace.
Remember Joseph: seven years of severe famine consumed the land, yet God had already set a wise man over Egypt, and in the midst of the wasting hunger, there was bread. The very nation that was used to preserve life became a place where all the earth came to buy grain. So even now, a drought can become the stage for God’s provision and for drawing the needy to Himself. Jesus, standing at the Feast of Tabernacles when water was poured out in remembrance of the rock, cried out that anyone who thirsts should come to Him and drink. He offers a well springing up into eternal life. That water never dries up. Even if physical rain is withheld, the soul that drinks of Christ will not perish.
So we join your prayer: Father, in Jesus’ name, send rain upon that land. Restore the brooks, soften the iron-hard ground, and let the dust be replaced by moisture. But we ask, too, that in the waiting and in the thirst, many would discover the Fountain of living waters. Let the temporal need lead to eternal trust. Only the Lord can do this. We wait on Him together.