In the Dallas-Fort Worth area, last May was the rainiest month on record. This happened according to prediction only because meteorologists were allowed to update their forecasts every few hours. To improve the perception of accuracy, they hedged their bets with percentages.
I want you to know that I was soaked, wishing I had an umbrella, when I stepped into a 20 percent downpour. Sometimes I think I can look at the sky, sense the humidity and wind, and make better predictions than the weathermen.
A few years ago—back in 1964, actually—I was calling on a customer, looked out the window, and said, “I think it’s going to rain.”
“No doubt about it,” the customer said. “The rain bushes are in full bloom.”
After observing the shrub covered with yellow flowers, I nodded.
The man’s tone was so matter-of-fact serious, I never questioned his sincerity until I walked out the door and realized how he must be laughing behind my back. I’d been had. There were no “rain” bushes.
I didn’t enjoy feeling like a fool, so I decided I’d be less gullible from then on. But here was my problem: if I was a sucker to believe a lie, how would I know?
I’ve read that God brings the rain on both the just and the unjust, so maybe I need to worry less about the accuracy of what prophets have to say and focus on being among the “just” part of the people getting soaked.
Your Father in Heaven causes the sun to rise on the evil as well as the good and sends rain on both the righteous and unrighteous. You should show kindness as he does. — Matthew 5:45