Susan LaffertyFamine. It’s coming.
An odd theme to consider in the middle of Thanksgiving season. But there it is. In my daily Bible reading.
Amos the herdsman delivers this word of the Lord. To a people nonchalant. Complacent. And ultimately resistant.
Unwilling to repent.
And this is no scarcity of grain in lean years. Nothing like the famine of Joseph’s day.
A cup of water. In debilitating heat, it can mean survival.
A large clay pot sat beside our gate. Full of water. With cup attached. Ready to meet the need of any passerby.
Unrelenting sun and desert wind meant dehydration was never far away.
The clay kept the water cool. Even on hot days.
Wilderness. When the voice of the Beloved is silent. And the Word—so full of rivers and streams—feels like desert.
I remember thirst. And crying out. In a dark night of the soul. Longing for His instruction.
In the mornings, I waited. Asking.
Are You there? Can You hear me?
