I spent much of the day driving around the lower Hurunui. Last week I saw it from the air. The land is dry. Very dry. We have not had rain for months and the land is parched with livestock struggling to find pasture. In some pockets of the countryside irrigation is fighting a constant battle, and in other parts farmers are having to feed out precious winter stores to their stock.
As I drove today I prayed for rain using psalms about deserts and rain, and Hopkins “send my roots rain.”
And for 1200 years (at least since the 700’s) Catholics have been praying for rain using these words:
O God, in whom we live, move, and exist,
grant us the right amount of rain,
so that, aided sufficiently in present temporal helps,
we may more confidently strive for eternal things.