Friday, July 28, 2006

I Thirst

Heather, the associate editor at Relief Journal, recently observed that Christian poets really liked rain—a lot. Here in the west, we do too. And while an overused metaphor quickly becomes passé, a Texas cornfield could sure use about five hours worth of that passé metaphor.

Three months ago, I blithely wrote about “floppy-eared cornstalks” and the abundance of wildlife along our creek bed. I reveled in the mild spring and took long walks with the girls. The creek gurgled and my girls had tea parties in the verdant clover. These days, there isn’t enough water even for mosquitoes. The runnels are dry, the wildlife is gone, and the cornstalks across the road are bowing their knees in submission to a hot wind.

Three months ago, I blithely started down a new road as the cnf editor at Relief. I devoured submissions, trolled my favorite blogs, and then began reading the workshop submissions for The Glen, a Christian writing conference I’ll attend in Santa Fe, NM this next week. Thirsting for community and desiring to make a good impression, I stayed up late and read into the morning. One morning I woke up, and my eyes ached. They wouldn’t move. For two days I couldn’t wear my contacts and by the third day, I filled a year-old prescription for glasses. They didn’t help. After an eye exam, I discovered that age, and thirty-five plus years of contact wear, had taken their toll. I had “dry-eye” syndrome and it would never get better. I would have to learn to manage the symptoms of dryness.

Every day, as I put in various drops to lubricate my source of vision, I regret taking advantage of something so precious and valuable. Every day, I have to limit my reading and force my eyes to rest. On Sunday, my sister’s pastor mentioned an old friend in west Texas. He recently asked this third-generation Texan how the drought was affecting her crops. Instead of whining about the weather, this seasoned old soul responded, “Oh, it will rain again. It always has. It always will.”

Let there be rain. Let there be rain. Let there be rain.

1 comment:

allison said...

My mom has the same affliction and now has to carry a bottle of store bought tears. Maybe it's a syndrome common to women who have had to bury a child. They've too early used up their allotment of tears.

See you in Santa Fe. Rain is predicted.