Monday morning — a November fall day — yet it feels like a soft, summer day. Our backyard, blessed with tall, stately trees, is covered with layers of leaves. Not only has the season called for the leaves to release their hold on the branches, the drought has also been to blame. The thirsty trees are struggling to stay alive, so their plumage has to go.

The ground is cement hard. Fall planting of trees and shrubs has to be postponed until a rain — a long, drenching rain. I’m speculating that not even that kind of rain can revive some of our azaleas that are covered in brown, crinkly leaves. Their hardiness has maxed out!

So many of the landscape trees and shrubs on the medians in and around central Mississippi are destined for the trash heap — a burn ban won’t allow burning. Young magnolias that had begun to grow and advertise their Magnolia State now stand as visible victims of the drought.

The hi-rise pine trees that grow in abundance in our subdivisions and nearby woods appear to have suffered the most from the drought. Their dying numbers are growing and easily spotted in the threatened forests.

As for plants that bloom, mark mine as goners! Poor hydrangeas! My hostas were first attacked by the deer that are rapidly losing their habitat to subdivisions. Then the stubs that remained said farewell when I gave up on watering their scrawny remains. The task seemed too widespread and demanding, so everything that was green in my flower beds is mostly brown and deceased. Spring will arrive at distinctly different flower beds on our lot!

When I consider the world around me, I sense the signs of the drought are signs that mirror our world’s spiritual lives. There is a drought of truth. Who could have imagined that God’s creation of male and female could be so distorted by the enemy? I could never have envisioned topics of sex identification becoming a kindergarten topic in public schools.

There is a drought of morality. Some would say that’s been the condition since Cain killed his brother, Abel. Yet, we see such blatant, in-your-face sin that’s actually glamorized in the multiple means of media now available. A right to life freedom continues to be ignored and demonized by protesting crowds demanding the death of the unborn.

There is a drought of worship. God’s fourth commandment to “remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy” has lost its appeal to too many families. However, images from Saturday drones that hover over capacity-filled football stadiums are ample evidence of where many devotions lie. 

The saddest part of our spiritual drought condition is that we don’t have to experience it by a rootless seeking to find fulfillment at man’s cisterns of polluted, foul waters. Jesus extended His call: “Come, you who are thirsty, and drink! With joy, draw water from the wells of salvation.”

The weather forecast finally predicts a possibility of rain in our area. I will rejoice when the rain comes, but much greater rejoicing would follow an awakening and revival of our world’s spiritual condition.

Letters to Camille Anding may be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS 39602.