Rains of January

She was walking through the fields when it was evening. The sun still lingered with its warm rays gliding the paddy fields that stretched wide before her. It was then that she noticed him to her right, standing in the marsh that interrupted the farmland like a mystery.

It was the Evangelist.

She recognized him instantly. He had known her since she was a young girl and used to occupy the place of a father. Years had passed since their paths crossed, yet there he stood unchanged in attitude as if they had met only yesterday. He stood ankle deep in the marsh. He was dressed in sky-blue shirt neatly tucked into his tailored navy trousers, impeccably groomed, carrying the authority and charisma of a seasoned and faithful evangelist that anyone would love.

He lifted his hand in greeting, and she returned it astonished, not at seeing him, but at where he stood. It was a square marshland submerged amid the cultivated field, but lo he stood firmly within it. She did not understand the significance right away, but she walked closer, equally happy to see him and careful not to step into the marsh herself. They exchanged warm greetings and a gentle side hug.

Her mind then was opened to understand how the former rain had softened the soil for sowing. It had fallen so heavily that the place where the Evangelist stood had become marshland, and as he sow his words brought souls into the Kingdom. 

The sower sows the word. 

Mark 4:14

She saw his face break into a broad smile showing his teeth and his prominent cheeks bearing the unmistakable roundness of genuine joy. There was no trace of distance, of time passed, no misunderstanding or pain as she had imagined. Only pure gladness and enforced love of two people reunited after long. 

As she bid goodbye to him she returned to the spot where her journey had begun and now turned to walk toward the left, away from the Evangelist toward another field. A narrow path ran through its center, bordered on both sides by crops so high, heavy, and ripe, ready for harvest. As she moved forward, she noticed a man approaching her along the path.

He wore dark trousers and a deep purple shirt, casually tucked in and she recognized him instantly.

It was the Prophet.

She wondered how he had come there at all. Was he not a man constantly in motion, traveling, ministering, carrying a demanding schedule across nations? How, then, did he time to be here? Someone beside her seemed to answer her unspoken question. He said, "The Prophet visits this place often."

The thought struck her. She lived so near, yet she seldom passes by the fields. And the Prophet, amid his global journeys frequented here?

The Prophet walked easily through the ripened field. The field of ripened grain had received the latter rain too, the rain that matures what was planted, preparing it for harvest. 

Lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest! 

John 4:35

And the Prophet—standing amid the harvest—had reaffirmed her place in that divine plan. Now beside him stood an Elder who encouraged her to receive prayer. She knelt, and the Prophet placed his hands upon her head and began to pray.

Her thoughts wandered and she failed to grasp his words. Suddenly, he paused.

“Did you hear what I prayed?” he asked.

Ashamed and a little scared she replied honestly, “I’m sorry. I’m struggling to focus.”

She braced herself for a rebuke. Instead, he continued repeating what she had missed, covering her again in prayer. She bowed in awe at the unexpected response. 

As she got up her memories surfaced to the words he had once spoken over her life, that she would be a voice in the end-time revival, and that from her family, revival would break forth, not through her alone, but through her household, as part of God’s greater plan.

As she returned once more to the place where she had first stood the words of Jesus resounded in her ears.

The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few.

Matthew 9:37

In these end times, God has allowed the former and the latter rain to fall together. And now I'm a part of it? I'm witnessing it? Good Lord! 

For He has given you the former rain faithfully,

And He will cause the rain to come down for you,

The former rain,

And the latter rain in the first month.”

Joel 2:23

It was no coincidence that this vision unfolded to her in January—the first month of the year. The pattern of heaven was happening on earth. What God had promised through the prophet Joel, He was now revealing through lived experience.

The fields were ready.

The rain had fallen.

And the call to labor remained.

And so she found herself once again standing at the place where she had begun.

She turned not toward the fields, nor toward the marsh, nor toward the path, but she is now looking at the Reader. Her posture is no longer merely reflective but resolute call to return, to respond, to arise.

And with that assurance, she spoke boldly not her own words, but the words of the Lord.

“So rend your heart, and not your garments;

Return to the LORD your God,

For He is gracious and merciful,

Slow to anger, and of great kindness;

And He relents from doing harm.

Who knows if He will turn and relent,

And leave a blessing behind Him—

A grain offering and a drink offering

For the LORD your God?”

Joel 2:13–14

The rain had fallen.

The fields stood ready.

And now, the call was clear.