I pray at the kitchen sink more than anywhere else.

I think it’s something to do with the soothing warm water and the fact that washing dishes is a focused task. Compared to, say, cleaning up the living room, which has me rabbit trailing between toys and books and the old carpet stain I keep meaning to re-treat and the nagging reminder from an overstuffed basket that I need to sort through the mail.

At the kitchen sink there are only dishes and soap suds and my thoughts.

Late at night while the household sleeps I straggle into the kitchen between cleaning up and bedtime to find peace in a sink full of waiting dishes. And before I know it I am turning over more than cups; I am sharing what I find in the back of my mind with the God who meets me in my unconventional kitchen.

So it is that as I rinse my bright red frying pan I find myself praying desperate dreams for the future

I pray for what I want, but rarely for what I have.

Until I was recently reminded of this verse:

“Ask rain from the LORD in the season of the spring rain, from the LORD who makes the storm clouds, and he will give them showers of rain . . . .” Zechariah 10:1 (ESV).

In the season of rain, pray for rain.

And suddenly it’s New Year’s Eve 1999, and I’m back on a dry game farm in Zimbabwe surrounded by farmers who haven’t seen decent rain in months.

***To keep reading, please click here. I am sharing this story over with the (In) Courage community today. I’d love if you would meet me there.***

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