Streams in the desert...

One week ago I was desperately packing and saying goodbye to everything familiar.

One week ago, in a state of near exhaustion, I boarded a bus with sixty strangers and my two fifty pound suitcases and rode out to the middle of the desert to begin training that I will use for the next few years.

One week ago I had never had the pleasure of hearing the song "Xiao Fang" or taken up residency in a hotel for a month, had never known anything about China, had never had a napkin placed in my lap by the waiters, had never walked the streets of La Quinta, had never seen anyone eat so much bacon, had no clue how much like an oven this place is during the day, had never heard the stories or seen the faces of my fellow teachers, and had never been so overwhelmed by the amount of work that is going on and still needed in China.

Precisely one week ago, I woke up surrounded by the brown rocky mountains unique to the southwestern American desert and was utterly stunned... it was pouring down rain. Thunder, wind, and sheets of rain.

And I was instantly reminded and comforted by the words of Isaiah: "I will make streams in the desert and rivers in the wasteland..."

Isn't that what's happening here?