Slow rain on fast blog

It’s snowing on Utterance, a WordPress nod to Christmas. But as we are in the southern hemisphere, and the weather is decidedly warm and damp, I think we can describe it as ‘slow rain’. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it may be time to upgrade your computer…

The Seven Deadly Sins. From Boccaccio (s.a.) D...
Image via Wikipedia

And some trivia for a slow, wet Saturday afternoon… I wrote a story about Masterchef and the seven deadly sins on July 11 and since then it has recorded 2,109 world-wide hits. That’s a lot of people reading an article that ends with this comment:

The message – however much we have been sinned against, forgiveness can be greater. Obviously, we can turn that around and say that however many times we have sinned, God’s grace is sufficient to bring forgiveness – if we sincerely receive it.

 The problem is that if we do not acknowledge the existence of sin – a widespread modern phenomenon – we will not access God’s forgiveness. In this case, if sin does exist , despite our disbelief, we remain unforgiven.

Most people visiting the article have used an internet search related to seven deadly sins or terms such as ‘gluttony’.

Another very popular post relates to Bear Grylls and his Christian faith – about 1,700 readers in five months. Grylls says this about his faith:

‘Christianity is not about religion – it’s about faith, about being held, about being forgiven. It’s about finding joy, finding home.’

Harvest returns to the west

In some parts of country Australia, such as western NSW, it has been at least five years since there has been a harvest of any note.
The land at its people have been oppressed by a stubborn failure of rain for up to a decade.
Ironically, the challenge this year has been too much rain with flooding meaning some farmers have missed out again.
Thankfully blue skys and a warming sun are prevailing for now, allowing harvesting to begin.
The west feels profoundly different, as if the pain of past years has been washed away by renewing rains or buried beneath a mountain of multiplying grains. The birds are more abundant and even tired old trees have dressed up in the latest green shoots of spring.
I am from the city but have been deeply moved in the presence of a paddock standing thick with wheat, the wind rustling the golden stalks like a happy, dancing wraith.
While there is much yet to do before farmers will feel their harvest is safely finished, this magnificent return to reaping what you sow is a massage to the heart.
There’s a rightness to it that challenges the cynical unnaturalness, or fakeness, of so much recent thinking.
Return to hope, return to the basics of love and truth and growth and new life. Return to God, the author of it all.