Ah the struggle is real.
The struggle to commit. The commitment to wait it out and trust God that all will be well and that this time in our lives is only temporary and that there is meaning to all of this…..this madness, that this long season of wandering and spiritual dryness will soon be over. And I am weary and frustrated and well, to be honest, really, really pissed off. And I feel helpless, so very helpless.
If I had to describe what I look like in this particular season, I can only compare it to a withered old woman desperately needing a drink of water to plump up those wrinkles as she wanders aimlessly through the desert, hair tangled, clothes ripped and dirty and clearly near death if she doesn’t get a drink soon. And just two feet away from her is a huge pool of clean, pure, life giving water but instead of stopping for a much needed drink, she passes it by, with her head held high and chin up in the air in clear defiance. She seems to think, in all her arrogance, that she is punishing God, but in reality, she is only punishing herself. She is so thirsty, her throat so dry that she has no saliva left to swallow, and blisters have formed around her mouth from the heat and her once supple skin is wrinkled and dry but still, she will not give in……until.
Until what? Until she sees the tides change? Until things come her way? Until she gets the toy she has been nagging her Father for? Until she feels it’s time to stop the temper tantrum?
Until she is so close to death that she has no choice but to reach her hands in the pool and take a drink and when she does, she will begin to feel all of her insides change, it will be instantaneous. And as she kneels over the water she keeps her eyes closed because she can’t bear the reflection. And the water will flow to all the parts of her body nourishing it and filling it with her every need. And she will feel revived and restored and slowly she will begin to feel all her worries start to lift away. And what starts out as sips will turn into greedy gulps because she starts to become addicted to the feeling of revival, of being filled up. And slowly, she opens her eyes so she can look at her reflection and she is satisfied at what she sees. Not perfect, but in time and she knows this because change doesn’t happen overnight. After all, she didn’t end up in this pathetic state overnight either.
And so she realizes that to live is to drink.
Perhaps, it isn’t coincidence that water is essential to a human beings survival or the fact that our bodies are made up of at least 60 percent of water.
Like our physical survival so it is with our spiritual survival. Water is life.
And with every drink, doubt is replaced by trust, impatience is replaced by peace and anger is replaced by Joy.
But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life (John 4:14)
But he himself will be refreshed from brooks along the way. He will be victorious .(Psalm 110:7)
With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation (Isaiah 12:3)