Drought

On the insatiable nature of imperfection and the importance of hope

Although it’s Christmastime, our weather right now is not very festive. It feels like drought, like dry river beds and still irrigation lines. It makes me think of famine, the ravenous cows in Pharaoh’s dream in Genesis. Speaking of the dream, isn’t it true that famine always eats up plenty, just as bad times eternally overshadow good ones? Is that our perverse human nature, our unwillingness to rejoice in blessings, or is it because we are so very mortal and frail and affected by every little thing?

I need a new vehicle, and last night I cried giant tears over the choices I have. I always imagined driving some big mama vehicle, something fitting for my large passel of delightfully raucous kids. It feels foolish to buy a big brood-hauler for our comparatively small family. I miss my little Tacoma and the freedom of a five-speed pick-up and I miss the dream of a big family and a big car. All of this comes down on me with the weight of unmet desires and the knowledge that I have two bea…