It feels like we're in the dead of winter - the depressing lull in early February that comes in New England when the days are too short, the wind too cold, the snow shabby, trees stick-figures against the grey sky, and snow days have lost their appeal. Except we're sweating and parched.
The earth is dead - no rain for months now. The heat is intense. The dry dusty gusty winds from the Sahara in the morning are intriguing but not refreshing.
And the lack of green certainly affects us. Just like it does in the winter in New England. Where is the new life, where is the miracle of new leaves and lush grass?
In the mango tree, as we watch baby mangoes grow against all odds, without rainful (but with plenty of sunshine!)...
In the avocado tree still producing...
In the boreholes that never dry up...
We just have to look for the miracles of life a little harder as we guzzle precious water and apply chapstick, as we bathe over buckets so we can reuse the water to wash clothes, and as the darkness closes in at sunset (albeit hours later than it would in New England February!).
Praise God for seasons, even seasons we enjoy less! Every season has its purpose - a season of waiting, a season of rejoicing, a season of sorrow, a season of action...
(Ecclesiastes 3)
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