desert

I don’t know what the weather is like where you are, but here, it’s hot. And dry. The grass is  more brown than green, and plants and gardens are slightly to moderately withered. I know this isn’t unique to our part of the world.

And it’s how I’m feeling about life.

Dry.

Cracked.

Withered.

Longing for refreshing rain.

Or as David, the psalmist, said:

O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water. (Psalm 63:1)

I don’t know what it’s like to be without water. Or to thirst to death. I can, in part, imagine the agony.

But my soul is thirsty. Sprinkles of rain aren’t enough. I need a downpour.

The psalm continues with praise and glory to God in the midst of the circumstances.

My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods.

Amen, Lord Jesus. Amen.