Dry Land

I spend a lot of time during my day thinking about God.

In fact, most of the time that’s all I do. Think. And I think I’ve managed to substitute thinking about God for communicating with God.

I read books about God, blog posts about God, sometimes I even write about God. I pray for my friends overseas, I work in ministry, I talk about God with people. But lately I’ve had no intimate connection with him, no conversation back and forth. I feel like I know a lot about God, but I don’t know God. The green pastures I once relished and relaxed in have become desert lands, dry and hot on my bare feet and weary on my soul. It’s as though I’ve walked past the watering hole numerous times but ignored it in favor of the mirage up ahead.

So I’ve trudged along, missing the watering hole of intimacy only to find that shiny promise in the distance disappear.

Years ago while in a similar place in my relationship with Christ, a good friend said to me “You know what to do. I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know. It’s like our friendship, we’ll go through grand canyons times, but we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

I find myself longing to fall in love with God again. The adventure, the joy, the questioning, the passions. In short, the mountains and valleys. I’m tired of this plateau. I’m tired of the cracked dry land of my heart. I want to play in the water, let it rush over my head and refresh my soul. It’s selfish, I know. It’s also scary, because I’ve grown to know what the dry land has to offer me. And I’ve survived a long time on it.

But the watering hole is full of passion, unpredictability, longing. It is where I am made whole. This intimacy relieves my parched throat, fills my heart with hope. In it, I find life as it’s meant to be lived. So why is it so hard for me to stop and drink?

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there’s no mountain too high, no river too wide
Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time

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