One of my worst habits isn’t something I do; it’s something I don’t do. I don’t drink enough water.
I just don’t think about water…until fatigue sets in and a splitting headache demands my attention. Especially during the winter, I’m simply unaware of thirst.
This morning, as I pondered the story of Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman, I was struck by her urgent request, practically a demand: “Sir, give me this water!” Here is a woman aware of her thirst. Aware of her need. Aware of the consequences of dehydration.
I am inspired by her immediacy. All too often, I deny my obvious need for water. I walk by a drinking fountain, telling myself, “I don’t need just a sip. I need a full water bottle. I won’t waste my time with a few gulps. They’ll just leave me thirstier.”
And yet what happens when I do stop and take a drink from a fountain? I actually begin to meet my body’s pressing need for hydration. But something else happens, too: I suddenly become overwhelmingly aware of how badly I need that full water bottle. I realize how T-H-I-R-S-T-Y I actually am. Drinking until my thirst is quenched becomes a top priority, no longer a “when I get around to it” concept.
In John 7:37, Jesus says, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.”
I find it all too easy to become spiritually dehydrated because I simply don’t think about my need for His “living water” until fatigue sets in. All too often, I deny my obvious need for His Word, telling myself, “I’ll wait until I can spend an hour in Bible study. (Click to Tweet this.) Five minutes isn’t enough; a few quick verses will just leave me wanting more.”
What happens when I do stop and meditate on a few verses? I do want more; I become overwhelmingly aware of how badly I need that hour of quiet time with God. I realize how T-H-I-R-S-T-Y I actually am. Quenching my spiritual thirst becomes a top priority.
I echo the Samaritan woman’s words: “Give me this water!”