It’s not all dry
In fact there’s this river winding it’s way through sometimes parched places.
Blood streaming river, grace river, provision river.
And even back then he (Moshe) struck a rock when told and the water gushed out.
He struck a Rock and Water gushed out?!
Water and blood when the Rock was struck, stricken.
I’m stricken that I don’t SEE it all bled out for me. FOR ME!!!
Why stand on the shore, rant about the dry land when there’s this frothing invitation right there.
Never thirsty again
I lunge (lunged then and forgot then too when the sun stacked high, soul scorching life and I became an Israelite wandering, murmuring) in.
Why not every. single. day?
There’s a river of life flowing out of ….. me.
Despite distractions, the vaunted bellowing about the state of things, everywhere.
There’s a river!
Ha ha! There’s a river. What am I doing?
Provision: cleansing, thirst quenching, re-creating, restful, irrigating everything, this river.
Yes. Still and again.
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