The Day It Rained: A Story of Childlike Faith and Gentle Miracles

The true miracle was never the mountain, but the rain.

When I was a little girl, I sat reading my Bible and came across a verse that changed everything for me:

"If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20)

I believed it. Without hesitation, without fear, without doubting if I was "enough." I believed Jesus meant it for me.

So I went outside, barefoot, small, standing in a field cracked and thirsty from drought. I lifted my voice to the mountains. I told them to move.

But the mountains stayed.

And something stirred in me. I didn’t crumple under disappointment. I didn’t doubt my faith. I didn't assume I was too small.

Instead, I pivoted.

I lifted my face to the sky and asked for rain.

And Heaven answered.

Tiny raindrops began to fall, soft and sure, washing the dust from the drought-ridden ground and planting something even deeper inside me: an unshakable knowing that God had heard me.

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What It Reveals

I once thought moving a mountain would have been the greater miracle. But now I see the truth: God didn’t just move the earth that day. He moved Heaven itself to meet the heart of a child who dared to believe.

Years later, I found the Bible my grandfather had given me. A man who once lived as a storm but was transformed by the love of Christ. Before he passed, he prayed and asked God for a personal word for each grandchild. Inside mine he had written:

"You are counted as one of the greatest in Heaven. I love you, Grandpa."

At the time, I didn’t understand it. But today I see it was always true: Heaven had already named me.

Heaven’s greatness isn’t about power, achievement, or recognition. It’s about trust, humility, and the bold, uncluttered faith of a child. My grandpa’s blessing wasn’t declaring me “better” than anyone else. It was declaring that God had already seen my heart, my faith, and even the rain He sent to kiss my face that day in the field.

Scripture is full of parents and grandparents speaking blessings that shape identity: Jacob blessing his sons, Moses blessing the tribes. These blessings weren’t just hopes; they were declarations aligned with Heaven’s view. My grandpa’s word carried that same weight. It was God’s way of saying: your identity is not fragile, not erased by labels, not dependent on performance. It is anchored in Heaven.

What It Asks

• Where did life bury your childlike faith?

• What labels tried to name you “too much,” “unruly,” “a storm,” when Heaven had already named you beloved?

• Have you mistaken the miracle for the mountain, when it has always been the rain?

What It Undoes

• The lie that faith is measured only by grand outcomes.

• The fear that our God-given winds are dangerous.

• The silencing labels that smother joy.

What It Plants

• God is calling me back, not to tame the spirit He gave me, but to surrender it, trust it, and dance in it again.

• I am not a storm. I am His.

• And the winds in my soul were designed to stir the skies, call down rain, move hearts, and carry His love into a weary world.

Maybe you need that reminder too.

If you still carry even the tiniest seed of faith, if you once danced and have forgotten how, know this: Heaven still rains for the child who dares to believe.

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Seed for Thought

The miracle isn’t always in moving mountains. Sometimes it is in the gentle rain that proves Heaven still bends to hear you.

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