Shalom 𐤔𐤋𐤌. I can't apologize enough for my characteristic absence. There's so much darkness inside and all around me that I can hardly bear with. I may only hope the ʾElim hear my cries as lousy a worshipper as I am. I am still here and I will still be here.
The Season of Ḥarish (Autumn) has arrived in my ritual calendar. For traditional Canaanite religion, this entailed a time to celebrate Supreme Baʿal's lifegiving rains. This would mercifully open up the soil, hardened from baking in the heat of an unforgiving Summer, to the annual ploughing. It is a time for reflection and preparation, just as the peoples of ancient Canaʿan looked forward to the hard work of planting and tending their precious crop. I'm somewhat embarrassed that I haven't come up with much more to say in the two weeks since Ḥarish began, but I would offer here my prayer that the ʾElim bless you all in your trials and endeavors of this Season.
Yeraḥ rises in His Fullness tonight 🌕
