Thursday, May 13, 2010

A Dry, Thirsty Land

A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord, He taketh my burden away,
He holdeth me up and I shall not be moved, He giveth me strength as my day.

With numberless blessings each moment He crowns, And filled with His fullness divine,
I sing in my rapture, oh, glory to God! For such a Redeemer as mine.

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock, That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of His love, And covers me there with His hand,

And covers me there with His hand.

I was reminded of this hymn written by William J. Kirkpatrick c. 1890 as I was out watering the garden. The soil here is nothing like the water-holding clay of the Gulf Coast. It is nothing like the rocky ground of the Ozarks. This is dry, dry dust. When you see pictures of the dust bowl, you will understand. The water either runs right off or soaks right through. There are little nutrients in the soil for the garden we are trying to grow. The seeds need that water that doesn't stay and the nutrients that are not there, especially when the hot sun and dry winds kick up every day and it feels like you are living in an oven. It reminds me of the spiritual condition here also. You try to give them the Living Water. As much as you pour into them, it either runs right off or runs right through, with seemingly no effect. Thank God for the nutrients contained in the small, faithful remnant that remain. Some seeds are growing, but the majority are dried up and withered, despite watering every day. Oh, that the seeds would open up and take in that Living Water and die to themselves that they may live as a fruitful vine. Thank you Lord, for shadowing me in this dry, thirty land. Thank you for your Living Water, your protection, your strength, your blessings, your mercy.

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