Thirst

“God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

It is not that the cup is half full, or that it is half empty.

It is that there is none.

None.

Empty.

Thirst.

The silence, absence of God or his blessings, a desert of presence or circumstances.

We may think that leaves us with no choice.

No water, no choice.

Ah, but yes, there is.

My God—my, personal—earnestly I seek you. 
We can choose to not deaden our thirst, to still feel thirst--to thirst is to be alive. 
We can choose to seek. 
We can choose to not attempt to satiate thirst with sand, or to dig our own cisterns.
We can choose to not give up.

Not dismayed by the lack, not daunted by the none, turn, turn.

Let the silence of God be an invitation.

May the distance of God be a welcome.

May the quiet train our eyes to see God’s earth brushings.

May the void give us discernment to hear the still, quiet, causing voice.

May the difficulty so cause us to search for him, that we can see his fingerprints like the dent of dew in the desert rocks, or the shadow of each grain of sand, or the impression of sunlight—subtle, so small, intangible, but there and life-giving, an unreal weight of the Glorious One surrounding us.

He loves us too much to give us water—answers to prayers, quick responses, pleasant circumstances, our fleshly desires even if they are good—without giving us himself, the Living Water.

Absence is full—turn, turn. 

He may hide himself, just so we will be intimate with him. 
He may be silent, just so we will lean closer to hear his faintest whispers. 

Nor is the invitation to turn just for the heroic or super-spiritual who can somehow ignore or overcome their thirst. No, it is an invitation given with power, to the dehydrated who cannot walk so weak; to the panting who do not know where to go; to those whose thirst is so overwhelming they are losing hope; to those who are too tired to want to thirst or search; to those who are still trying to dig their own cisterns; to those drunk on other things who do not even recognize their thirst… It is an invitation given with power by the One who thirsted in the desert of temptation, on the cross, who knew the absence and utter abandonment of the Living Life, his Father.

So, come, come—choose!— in his strength, his power—he will sustain you as you search for him. He will reveal the Father to those who thirst. Come, come to the waters and drink freely.

“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live” (Isaiah 55:1-3a).