A River of Life
A River of Life
Judges 15:18-19a
And he was very thirsty, and he called upon the LORD and said, “You have granted this great salvation by the hand of your servant, and shall I now die of thirst and fall into the hands of the uncircumcised?” And God split open the hollow place that is at Lehi, and water came out from it. And when he drank, his spirit returned.
Perhaps right now the reviving message your heart needs most from the LORD isn’t that He can empower you to move mountains or defeat armies or accomplish superhuman feats, but that at the end of your toil it’s okay to be thirsty.
Friend, consider the exhaustion of our triumphant Savior if your heart feels feint today. Remember how He cried out at the end of His Passion those very words that symbolize the weakness of our human condition, “I thirst!” Marvel at the mystery that at the very moment a sponge of vinegar touched His parched lips, there in the depths of His excruciating dehydration, He was simultaneously splitting open the hollow earth and baptizing us in a stream of living water. To think that in order to forever quench our spiritual and physical thirst, He chose to drain Himself dry, turning His physical body into the most desolate wasteland in all the cosmos—a hellscape—parched and cracked and devoid of the moisture that revives material objects, all while producing a river that never runs dry.
See, friend, maybe you’ve been losing sleep all week over a crying infant, or maybe you’re emotionally drained from countless interventions with a rebellious teenager, or maybe you’re fighting for purity and sobriety around co-workers who continue to tempt you at every turn, or maybe you’re spinning your wheels preparing sermons or classroom lessons or Bible study notes or meals, and you’re just plain worn out from the ministerial grind, and the pile-up of fatigue from yesterday’s victories are shrouding today’s tasks. Well, I encourage you to follow Samson’s example right now and cry to the LORD for water! Run to that Stream of refreshing water that even now gushes forth for you.
God didn’t make us weak and frail so that we’d burn out, but so that we’d run to Him for strength, and drink deeply of His providential mercies, and rise up again stronger than ever.
