God’s whisper of promise is not given to those who are big, flashy, or impressive. The scent of rain comes to those in obscurity. It comes to those who are dead, dry, dying – a mere stump, a gnarled fist of brittle roots.

For those in a time of famine, who feel like a gnarled fist of brittle roots, to whom God is sending the scent of rain but are struggling to believe, God’s starting to break through—know this: love is on the way!