In the face of drought

Joyce Sasse - This past month I’ve waged war on the mother deer and two fawns that hang out in my backyard – eating blossoms and fallen apples.  But a discussion with a friend brought me up short. When she noticed deer eating her cucumbers, she reasoned they had to be really thirsty, so she set a tub of water out for them and the birds.  With this prolonged drought, there is no watering of lawns and the creek is barely a trickle. Where do the wildlife go for a drink? Instead of being driven by the compulsion to over-protect what is mine, I needed to be reminded to consider the bigger picture. How long will these conditions go on? What all is affected?

When the landscape suffers, all who are part of that landscape share the pain. The reminder awakened my deeper self to think of others who face extreme heat, little water, and often great poverty. Can we learn from them?

What about those facing the extremes of nature in other places: hurricanes, floods, droughts and forest fires . Can we better understand their trauma and their grief?

While we long for signs of hope that the rains will come, we look for ways we can reach out in partnership to all who share our turf. I’m trying to think how I can transform my own fear and self-centredness in more constructive ways.

There are times when we are forced to go to places deeper within ourselves for spiritual enlightenment. For some, our strength comes with the understanding that God acts in love. Drought is not a judgement caused by God, but becomes one of those opportunities when God can help us face the worst of times. How do we know this? Because the Almighty came into our midst in human form to show us compassion and the depth of what love can mean. As we are loved, so may we become the conduits through which God’s love is shown to others.