It hadn’t rained since I don’t know when.

Hand feeding had become a daily necessity and was slowly eating into fragile bank balances.

Fortunately, the old bore was still producing enough to keep the skinny animals from dehydrating and us from being hard to live with.

Each day the clouds would build up, promising rain, but not delivering.  Each day the thought became stronger that the gun would have to be pulled out of the back cabinet to put the stock out of their misery.

However, the pain and the experience of the struggle to survive through past difficult years would make this action one of the last to be taken.

The locals had decided things were so bad they needed to get together and pray for rain.

The sceptics among them laughed at the absurdity of such an action but many were at the end of their tether and in desperation were prepared to try anything, even prayer.

It’s a pity we have to see God as our last straw who is called on to solve our problems when they get beyond us.

Perhaps if we were to recognise our God’s existence with us on a daily basis we might find more comfort in knowing our regular prayer was being heard, rather than waiting to pray as a last resort.

I’m Peter Mack and that’s faith.

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