Who am I? I am a spring of living water.
When I was a child, I visited my grandfather for several weeks during the summer. I loved following him to the fields behind old Belle, his favorite mule. I walked in his footsteps as he plowed his cotton the old fashioned way with the mule.
Georgia summers are hot and humid. Sweat pours out in buckets drenching every stitch of clothing. It didn't take long plowing with my grandfather to feel like I had been swimming and to make my mouth feel like cotton.
Back then, Papa didn't have a portable ice water cooler like we do today. You couldn't even buy a bag of ice anywhere that I remember. He didn't really need one. He knew where every spring was located. When we couldn't stand our thirst any longer, I remember him taking me to the edge of a field. He bent down and brushed the leaves out of the way and poked around. Then like magic, a gurgling spring appeared with a little pool of water it had created. We got down on our hands and knees, cupped our hands, and pulled handfuls of the life giving water up to our mouths drinking to our hearts content. Then, we'd splash our faces, have a laugh or two, and go back to plowing the cotton satisfied and refreshed. There was nothing like it. It was the coolest, freshest, cleanest water I can remember.
I am a spring of living water too! I drink the water Jesus gives me. I never thirst, and He creates a spring of living water in me.
It wasn't always that way and sometimes still isn't. Instead of spring water, All around me was salt water that I tried to drink. It only made me more thirsty. It never satisfied because salt water never satisfies the thirst in my soul. It's like the Rime of the Ancient Mariner in the scene where the men were dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean but couldn't drink the salt water. They knew it didn't have the power to quench their thirst.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye.
Why in the world would God put salt water unfit to drink all around me? Why? Doesn't He love me? Doesn't He care for me? Why doesn't He give me what I need and want?
The salt water was the Lord's way of revealing to me that I was living a lie. That I had allowed myself to be deceived into thinking that success was my spring water and could bring fulfillment and happiness into my thirsting soul. HA! Boy, was I fooled!
I tried to measure up thinking that if I could meet certain self-imposed standards and standards I felt were imposed on me by significant others, then I would feel good about myself. My "I" would be content.
But again and again, I failed. Even on those occasions when I succeeded with regularity, the occasional times I failed was devastating to my "I." The failures dominated the perception of myself.
And that perception was not a pretty picture. It was more like a polluted pond growing green yuk on its surface.
I was driven to accomplish every personal goal I set for myself. I was driven to accomplish every goal that institutions imposed on me or goals I thought they imposed on me. If I didn't score a touchdown because I fumbled the ball, I was extremely hard on myself. That's not good. That's drinking salt water.
Furthermore, my "I" was never satisfied when I scored a touchdown. I wanted to score another one and another and another. It's like drinking salt water, I was never satisfied. Always wanting more.
If I didn't score, I tried that much harder and harder and harder. And of course, I couldn't score on every possession. Sometimes I never scored. It was those times I experienced pain in the deepest recesses of my soul. Those were "weary times and glazed my weary "I." Salt water never quenches the thirsting of my soul.
Those weary times led me to think that God didn't love me. He didn't care for me. And I couldn't see the love others had for me either. "The boards did shrink."
God turned my rivers into a wasteland. He changed my flowing springs into sun-baked mud. He made my luscious orchards into alkali leaving a bitter taste in me. This was the Lord's doing, and He did this to me because He loves me.
With my soul dry as cotton, Jesus took my by the hand and walked me over to the edge of the field. There, we knelt down. He brushed away all the leaves and debris and showed me His spring of living water. I had to get on my hands and knees. I cupped my hands, dipped into His divine spring gurgling with life, and drank and drank quenching the thirst that had driven me for too long.
"Lord," I said, "give me this water so I won't ever thirst again." And He did! Freely. Abundantly. Jesus told me, "My spring never runs dry. It's an eternal fountain. Drink it up. Splash your face with it. Soak your parched soul in it. You'll never thirst again. Water from my spring is cool, pure, and satisfying. There's not a trace of salt in it!"
And so I did, and I do. And lo and behold, I have an artesian spring of water welling up in me, bubbling out, bursting forth, and overflowing for the blessing of others.
Who am I? I am a spring of living water.
When I was a child, I visited my grandfather for several weeks during the summer. I loved following him to the fields behind old Belle, his favorite mule. I walked in his footsteps as he plowed his cotton the old fashioned way with the mule.
Georgia summers are hot and humid. Sweat pours out in buckets drenching every stitch of clothing. It didn't take long plowing with my grandfather to feel like I had been swimming and to make my mouth feel like cotton.
Back then, Papa didn't have a portable ice water cooler like we do today. You couldn't even buy a bag of ice anywhere that I remember. He didn't really need one. He knew where every spring was located. When we couldn't stand our thirst any longer, I remember him taking me to the edge of a field. He bent down and brushed the leaves out of the way and poked around. Then like magic, a gurgling spring appeared with a little pool of water it had created. We got down on our hands and knees, cupped our hands, and pulled handfuls of the life giving water up to our mouths drinking to our hearts content. Then, we'd splash our faces, have a laugh or two, and go back to plowing the cotton satisfied and refreshed. There was nothing like it. It was the coolest, freshest, cleanest water I can remember.
I am a spring of living water too! I drink the water Jesus gives me. I never thirst, and He creates a spring of living water in me.
It wasn't always that way and sometimes still isn't. Instead of spring water, All around me was salt water that I tried to drink. It only made me more thirsty. It never satisfied because salt water never satisfies the thirst in my soul. It's like the Rime of the Ancient Mariner in the scene where the men were dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean but couldn't drink the salt water. They knew it didn't have the power to quench their thirst.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye.
Why in the world would God put salt water unfit to drink all around me? Why? Doesn't He love me? Doesn't He care for me? Why doesn't He give me what I need and want?
The salt water was the Lord's way of revealing to me that I was living a lie. That I had allowed myself to be deceived into thinking that success was my spring water and could bring fulfillment and happiness into my thirsting soul. HA! Boy, was I fooled!
I tried to measure up thinking that if I could meet certain self-imposed standards and standards I felt were imposed on me by significant others, then I would feel good about myself. My "I" would be content.
But again and again, I failed. Even on those occasions when I succeeded with regularity, the occasional times I failed was devastating to my "I." The failures dominated the perception of myself.
And that perception was not a pretty picture. It was more like a polluted pond growing green yuk on its surface.
I was driven to accomplish every personal goal I set for myself. I was driven to accomplish every goal that institutions imposed on me or goals I thought they imposed on me. If I didn't score a touchdown because I fumbled the ball, I was extremely hard on myself. That's not good. That's drinking salt water.
Furthermore, my "I" was never satisfied when I scored a touchdown. I wanted to score another one and another and another. It's like drinking salt water, I was never satisfied. Always wanting more.
If I didn't score, I tried that much harder and harder and harder. And of course, I couldn't score on every possession. Sometimes I never scored. It was those times I experienced pain in the deepest recesses of my soul. Those were "weary times and glazed my weary "I." Salt water never quenches the thirsting of my soul.
Those weary times led me to think that God didn't love me. He didn't care for me. And I couldn't see the love others had for me either. "The boards did shrink."
God turned my rivers into a wasteland. He changed my flowing springs into sun-baked mud. He made my luscious orchards into alkali leaving a bitter taste in me. This was the Lord's doing, and He did this to me because He loves me.
With my soul dry as cotton, Jesus took my by the hand and walked me over to the edge of the field. There, we knelt down. He brushed away all the leaves and debris and showed me His spring of living water. I had to get on my hands and knees. I cupped my hands, dipped into His divine spring gurgling with life, and drank and drank quenching the thirst that had driven me for too long.
"Lord," I said, "give me this water so I won't ever thirst again." And He did! Freely. Abundantly. Jesus told me, "My spring never runs dry. It's an eternal fountain. Drink it up. Splash your face with it. Soak your parched soul in it. You'll never thirst again. Water from my spring is cool, pure, and satisfying. There's not a trace of salt in it!"
And so I did, and I do. And lo and behold, I have an artesian spring of water welling up in me, bubbling out, bursting forth, and overflowing for the blessing of others.
Who am I? I am a spring of living water.
---------------------------------
Conclude this devotional by watching this beautiful video
and listening to "Let Your Living Water Flow."
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