Notes From the Front Porch: Parables, Sudden Rains, and Minor Lords

I have been learning a lot lately about how to write a parable.

At its heart, a parable is a simple story that teaches a lasting lesson. Jesus loved to use everyday elements—seeds, lanterns, sheep, mountains, valleys, flowing rivers, and fruit on the vine. Simple, tangible things to explain deep, spiritual truths.

God has been using a very specific element to show me a lot lately: rain.

I’ve had more days off lately, but I swear every time I am yearning to step out the door for a walk, a sudden rain shower comes out of nowhere five minutes beforehand and halts my plans. It forces me inside. It forces me to stop, adapt, and find something meaningful to do within my walls.

The Sudden Shift

Earlier this week, my entire schedule was shifted around, only to be flipped right back the next morning. I was annoyed at first, but then I tried to see the silver lining—at least I wouldn't go over my hours.

Then came the bigger storm: I found out that the manager everyone counted on as "The Negotiator"—the glue holding things together—was suddenly ousted, and no one really knows why. Right on cue, the rain came, along with a heavy cloud of whispers and accusations.

It saddens me that so many control freaks seem to run things just to be the ones who decide who is "in" and who is "out." They judge using a completely different yardstick than the rest of us—one built in empty corporate offices.

The Lesson of the Minister

Then today, I learned the backstory behind a local minister who was fired years ago. It wasn't that he failed at his job; he did it exceedingly well. He did what the Bible calls us to do: he lived and loved like Jesus.

But there are so many "lords" (with a little l) who demand that their way is the only way. Even if you perform exceptionally, if you don't live up to whatever unwritten standard these little lords possess, they try to cast you out. They want to control the narrative. They want to decide who gets to stay and who has to leave.

That minister showed me something profound: The rain came, the wind blew, but his hope was built on a secure foundation.

He said he may never be a pastor again, but God led him to a place where he found true peace and happiness. I pray I can hold onto that same perspective.

Weathering the "Reigns"

Sometimes, those sudden downpours aren't God’s "for the greater good" rains. Sometimes, they are simply the rains (reigns) of minor lords trying to flex their muscles and show off their power.

That realization gave me such a deep, quiet peace. It reminded me that getting "voted off the island" or dealing with chaotic workplace drama doesn't mean I did anything wrong.

My hope isn't tied to the whims of minor lords. My hope is in God, and He will guide me into a bright new day if I simply lean on His understanding instead of my own.

"In quietness and trust is your strength." — Isaiah 30:15