As a deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God! I thirst for God, for the living God. I say, “When will I be able to go and appear in Godʼs presence?” (Psalms 42:1-2)
I need my Creator God. Without him my deflated body lies shriveled, without so much as a pulse. My vacant mind rattles with thought fragments that amount to nothing the instant they pass. My spirit wrestles blindfolded against a menace named, Despair. Without God, this brief life is as good as it gets, before my soul molders in hell without end.
I am parched for Jesus, I hunger for his Father, I crave his Spirit. Without them, it would be better if I didn’t exist, or that I was insentient so I wouldn’t have to know what I’m lacking. As it is, I realize what’s missing, and it leaves me wild-eyed.
I need God more than a newborn needs his mother. I need him more than war needs peace. I need him, I want him, I strain for him. I’m addicted to the Source of life. I’ve had tiny doses, hints of his splendor, and they only serve to intensify my need. Father, Jesus, Holy Spirit, I’ll take one or all, whatever will satiate this longing. I can’t get fully to them and I am desperate.
The world holds out the wine of distraction, but what is that when sparkling pure life is offered? I spit out the gall, because I’d rather die of thirst while awaiting the true quenching.
Wilderness survivalists are taught to suck on an oval stone while they search for water. It eases their thirst until a real spring is found. The promise of union with the triune God has not satisfied my thirst, but it is a pacifying stone in my mouth. I’ll suck hard on his promise until the day it melts into the sweet artesian gush of God himself.
Prayer: Completing God, come to me soon.