There have been more days like that than I care to admit.
Oh, I’d really prefer for you to think of me as having it all together. Waking before dawn all these past thirty-some years to reset my focus on Christ. Drinking in His Word and His presence. Changed. Refreshed.
But no, there have been too many days that my parched soul has responded first to something else.
Exhaustion. Laziness. An urgent deadline. To-do lists. Family demands.
And I push the thirst aside, sure I can quench it later. Or some other way. Through ministry or some quick prayers and a serving of yesterday’s manna. Dry leftovers.
But too many of those days, and life tends to take a funny turn. It’s so gradual that I barely feel it. Maybe a little at first, but then I grow used to a dry mouth, and the show must go on.
The thing is, as it all goes on, circumstances weigh heavier and mountains rise higher.
Irritations morph into serious offenses. Setbacks are equivalent to failures. Discouragement turns to despair.
Before long, joy and hope are missing entirely.
And they’re signs. Signs that our souls thirst. That they’ve gone too long without Living Water. That the Word that once saturated us has evaporated. That we must drink daily.
The biggest indicator of them all?
This pervasive thought… that if we could change our circumstances, we could finally be happy.