Centuries ago, a prophet in Israel blossomed in such an atmosphere. I like to think of Habakkuk as a sort of Butterfly Milkweed Prophet, because in the midst of deprivation, he wrote this:
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
He enables me to tread on the heights.