The Miner's Curse ... and blessing

I have a new admiration for the patience and futility of mining. Early miners digging by hand were able to progress at the rate of only three feet a day. It took three months to dig a main hole in search of the mother lode – in this case opal. But opal only develops in veins where there is a shift in the rock structure. Metre upon metre of digging continues in the hope of striking such a vein. The pace of digging has increased through the years, but the success rate is not great. Some make big money, others a basic amount, enough to sustain hope. One wonders what keeps them going. Dave (our tour guide through a working mine) spoke of one rich strike in 28 years. he says miners die of AIDS (Acquired Income Deficiency Syndrome) or SARS (Serious absence of Romantic something). So what sustains them out in this dusty, barren and unwelcoming place, where temperatures soar into the 50s during hot summer days, and plummet to around zero in the winter nights?

It was as I pondered this question that I recognised the connections with my own spiritual journey – the miner’s quest is not unlike the spiritual quest, the yearning, the searching, the hoping, and the working for an encounter with God. Just as an opal miner may miss a vein by a matter of inches, how often do I pass by without noticing God’s proximity? There are the occasional deep and enriching encounters amidst the staking of claims, and the searching, fossicking and digging. It is those intimate moments with God which one seeks as a consequence of the search. The discovery worth every moment of effort, and yet also (as Jeremiah once lamented) something that traps one in the continuing journey.