They have come to depend on me for water, these frisky twins and their feathered friends, and so I brave the 103 degree heat to refill the birdbath. I scrub away the accumulated scum and wonder how they can stand to drink this dirty, tepid water. I do my best to keep it drinkable - but I am a poor substitute for a cool, clear stream of running water.
I make my way to the hose and drag it over to the birdbath. It is in the shade now, and I hope they will all enjoy a cool drink this evening.
The grass crunches under my feet as I walk back toward the water spigot, and I can't bear to pass it by. I stand holding the hose over the cracked earth and watch it drink. It is so dry, and I know I can never satisfy such a deep thirst. The lawn is too big, and I am mindful that we don't have a bottomless well. I must be careful not to use too much water.
It hurts the eyes to look around and see the deep need - a need I cannot satisfy.
The sky is that perfect blue with only a few little puffs of white. They hold no promise.
And the sun beats hot - unrelenting day after day.
I turn off the water and coil the hose back into a limp roll, and I pray. Pray to the only one who can satisfy the need of this thirsty land. For there are some things that only He can do.
I think of my own heart, of the times I have tried to satisfy its cravings with things that promised much and left me feeling empty and lost. It seems my heart has been fashioned in such a way that there is only One who can perfectly fill it. When I give Him entrance, He comes; He satisfies; He fills.
"O God, Thou art my God; I shall seek Thee earnestly;
My soul thirsts for Thee, my flesh yearns for Thee,
In a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I will bless Thee as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands in Thy name.
My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness
And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips."
Linking to Emily's imperfect prose.