I’m fairly wary of treading into the political arena, but yesterday I had a vision that continues to burden me. As I prayed briefly for the elections down south, I had a picture pop into my mind:
I saw prairie grass but this grass was burnt black. In the middle was a kidney shaped patch of unburned brown grass (the colour grass turns in the north in the winter).
I do not offer a definitive interpretation, but I do offer some thoughts. For the black burnt grass, I sense evil, darkness, death and a burden of grief. The brown remnant – dormant, dead in a sense but perhaps capable of being brought to life? Also consider 1 Peter 1 v24 “For all men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall”.
Possibly related is my continuing and deepening sense of unease about this word that is currently being bandied about: “change”. The thing is – change, yes – but to what end?
It seems as if there are those captivated with style over substance, to whom such a word connects with a feeling that things are not right (with which I would agree). But rather than enquire more deeply, they are satisfied with the slogan and the emotion attached to it.
Do we know where we are going? Not all change is for the good.