Showers in the Desert
Dry Seasons, Unseen Growth, and the Storms That Bring Life Back to the Soul
There are seasons in life that feel like deserts.
Long, dry stretches where nothing seems to move. The ground beneath your feet cracks. Your spirit feels parched. Your prayers echo back in silence. Your efforts feel unnoticed, your heart unfulfilled. These are the dry seasons. The waiting seasons. The wilderness.
And if you’ve lived long enough, you know exactly what I mean.
You can be surrounded by people and still feel isolated. You can be working hard and still feel stuck. You can be doing all the right things and still feel like nothing is changing. No movement. No growth. Just heat. Just dust. Just dryness.
There’s no emotional high to ride. No moment of affirmation. No signs that all your internal wrestling is paying off. And the longer it lasts, the easier it becomes to believe that maybe you’ve been forgotten. That maybe the well really is dry. That maybe this is all there is.
But then something shifts.
A cloud gathers. The air changes. And in what feels like a moment, the sky breaks open.
And it rains.
Not a drizzle. Not a mist. But a shower in the desert unexpected, powerful, and deeply needed. The kind of downpour that doesn’t just wet the surface, but sinks deep into the cracked places. The kind that brings dead things back to life. The kind that reminds you that you were never forgotten… you were being prepared.
That’s what grace feels like in a dry season.
It doesn’t always come when we expect it. It doesn’t always arrive in the form we hoped. But when it comes—it changes everything.
Why Dry Seasons Matter
Most people don’t talk about their desert seasons until after they’ve made it out. There’s not much applause for surviving long stretches of nothing. There’s no applause for being faithful when fruit isn’t visible. But these seasons matter more than we think.
Because in the desert, your roots grow.
When you plant a seed, there’s a waiting period. Nothing is visible. No leaves, no bloom. Just silence. But underneath the soil, the real work is being done. Roots are forming—deep, slow, invisible work that anchors the plant before it ever grows upward. If the rain came too early, the roots wouldn’t be strong enough to hold. If the winds came before the roots were deep, everything would be ripped from the earth.
So yes, dry seasons matter.
They teach you what emotional highs can’t.
They develop strength that compliments outward success.
They test your commitment to the unseen.
They deepen your dependence on God, not results.
In the wilderness, you stop performing. You stop trying to impress. You stop relying on things that once gave you a sense of identity. And that’s where the real work begins.
That’s where God does His best shaping.
When the Rains Finally Come
And then, rain.
You don’t always know when it’ll hit. It could be a long awaited opportunity. A healing in a broken relationship. A shift in your mental or spiritual health. A word spoken at just the right time that breaks something loose in your soul. Or maybe it’s something more subtle, a deep breath, a tear you didn’t know you needed to cry, a quiet moment where God reminds you that you’re still His.
But when it rains, you feel it.
The hardness starts to soften.
The lifeless places start to move.
The voice you thought was gone speaks again.
And what’s wild? The growth was there the whole time. It was just hidden. Dormant. Waiting for the right conditions to awaken.
That’s the power of spiritual rain it doesn’t create something new, it revives what was already planted.
God Sends Rain On Purpose
Isaiah 43:19 says:
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
God doesn’t waste the wilderness.
He led Moses through it. He hid Elijah in it. He tested Jesus in it.
Why?
Because the wilderness isn’t just a place of waiting it’s a place of preparation. It strips you of ego, removes distraction, and confronts your idols. It teaches you to live off daily bread, not stockpiled comfort. It humbles you and teaches you to rely not on your own understanding, but on His faithfulness.
God sends rain when the soil is ready. Not when we’re desperate, not when we demand it, but when the work in the unseen places has done its job.
Because the rain isn’t just a blessing—it’s a test.
Can you handle the growth? Will you forget the desert? Will you remember the Source?
Lessons From the Desert
If you’re in a dry season, this is for you. I’ve been there too when nothing made sense, when I felt spiritually flatlined, when the fire burned low and the questions grew louder than the answers.
Here’s what I’ve learned walking through the wilderness:
1. You’re Not Being Punished
Silence doesn’t equal absence. Just because God is quiet doesn’t mean He’s distant. He often does His best work in the dark.
2. Waiting Isn’t Wasting
The time you spend in the dry season is not wasted time. It’s formative time. It’s where character is built and conviction is clarified.
3. Faith Is Proven in the Dryness
Anyone can worship in the rain. It takes depth to worship when the sky is clear and your soul is dry.
4. Roots Are the Real Strength
Don’t confuse activity with progress. What’s unseen often matters more than what’s seen. Grow deeper, not just louder.
5. When It Rains, Be Ready to Receive
Don’t miss the blessing because you’re still focused on the drought. When the rain comes, let it in. Let it soak your soul. Let it change you.
Dry Seasons Don’t Define You—They Refine You
The world might measure you by how fast you’re growing or how big your platform is. But God measures by how deep your roots go and how well you steward the silence.
There’s a reason so many biblical stories happen in the desert. It’s the place of stripping. It’s where identity is clarified. It’s where dependence is formed. And it’s where revival is born.
Dry seasons don’t define you.
They refine you.
You’re not behind.
You’re being built.
Showers Don’t Always Look Like What You Expect
Sometimes the rain comes as a second chance. Other times, it comes as a person you didn’t know you needed. Sometimes it comes through brokenness that softens your heart for the first time in years. It may not always feel good. But it will do good in you.
The point isn’t just to escape the desert. It’s to let the desert do its work. So when the rain comes—you’re not just relieved, you’re ready.
Closing Thoughts: Stay Faithful in the Drought
We live in a culture that rewards speed, applauds constant output, and idolizes the grind. But Kingdom growth often happens in reverse. The longer the roots, the greater the fruit. The drier the season, the more powerful the rain. The quieter the stretch, the clearer the voice when it finally speaks.
So if you’re in the desert:
Keep walking.
Keep showing up.
Keep trusting the process.
Your job isn’t to make it rain.
Your job is to stay rooted and ready.
Because when the rain does come, when the clouds break and the skies pour out over your weary soul, you’ll see that everything was worth it. You weren’t being forgotten. You were being formed.
And the shower that seemed delayed?
It was right on time.
Let it rain. Let it revive. Let it remind you, you’re still His.