It has been written that in the last days a great rain would come. A storm so fierce that those left will run for cover in fear and dread. It will rage on-- until all the crops are destroyed.
There was also tell of a rain that would come. They said that it would change the way the giants lived. It would bring a flood that would once again allow the giants to become the power they had once been. Truth be told, they would be more powerful than they had ever been.
As a group they had become weak--to the world, powerless. Giants of old told about running the land. About great miraculous rains that caused mighty waves to sweep the land-- changing everything in its path. No one had seen these waves of late. The land was dry and parched.
That afternoon as the giant stood looking at the darkening sky he wandered if this was the destroying storm. Pushing his hat firmly down on his head he picked up his pace to reach the fields before the storm. Thunder clapped all around shaking the ground. Head down he raced toward the field hoping to pull in a few more bushels before they were flattened by the hail that would surely accompany the rain.
Reaching the field out of breath he now noticed now that he was not alone. Hats pulled firmly down, others were coming to the fields with crates under their arms. He could not recognize anyone, they all looked the same in their work clothes and hats. It would not matter in the end-- the most important thing was to bring in the crop they were responsible for.
Before the end of the first row, the rain began. His heart cried out to the maker of the rain. In anguish he spoke into the darkened sky, "Forgive me! Please-- hold the storm. Allow us more time so that we can bring in the harvest. We have been so weak and tired and we have not called for brothers to join with us. But look, the fields are full and we are all working together. Let us work together to bring in the crop. Strengthen us so that we may work as one mighty force. We admit we were lulled by the cool of the coming rain and by the song of the stranger. Forgive us!"
They all worked furiously as they called out to the maker of the storm. Hearts we broken and they worked feverishly so that the crop would not be lost.
A sound began to rise as they worked. First just a hum--the sound of a song long forgotten. It seemed familiar, but they could not remember the words.
And then coming from a deep, deep well--- the words rang forth.
Their hearts beat a little faster, their steps were quickening-- the field was almost finished.
At the edge of the field they turned to look at the ones who worked by their sides. Each face looked exhausted and relieved. They stood, grinning from ear to ear as the heavens opened up. Cool cleansing rain fell covering them as each removed his hat and lifted his face to take in sweet refreshment. That day they drank deep.
Laughter rose from the ranks. Such a sweet sense of fulfillment was filling them, they could not contain it. Sore muscles began to ease and those who felt weak, now knew what true strength was.
Giant began to hug giant, spreading news of other fields where crops still needed to be brought in. Far and wide Giants could be seen standing out in the healing rain, drenched to the skin, talking to his neighbor.
The healing rain had come.
There was still work to be done.
"In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy. I will show wonders in the heaven above and sign on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord.
And everyone who calls on the day of the Lord will be saved."