Muddy praise

I watch as they bend heads together like flowers drooping in the autumn sun, finding it - their delight. Their voices cascade like a waterfall one after another.

Fingers point and minds find truth. It's just one afternoon of hard work, one afternoon of me poured into them in a long drought season of shifting roles and friends in deep need. We learn about aquifers. Bedrock saturated by one long rain.

All it is - a bucket of muddy water and a colander full of rocks and sand and sticks - and we are explorers of the earth's secrets, full of wonder at what's buried far beneath us and sustains us every day.

I see myself here, delighted face, pouring my muddy water onto the Father's deeper beauty, His deeper plan, and He filters it and shapes it, and what I've offered back comes through crystalline, gem-like, sparkling in the sun.

So I bend a knee at the Bedrock and offer my muddy voice in praise, for He is the water that quenches the very thirsty and the sustenance for those whose need is greater than the world's supply.

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified. (John 7:37-39 ESV)

Five Minute Friday