Shower a spiritual drought with living water
By Dara Fillmore
It was more than 85 degrees at noon. Cicadas sizzled in the sun’s heat. So did
my shoulders. But the strawberries couldn’t wait
until later. They needed water. Now. Edges of leaves curled up, hoping for a
water drop to land and travel down the wilting stem to the drying roots that
were reaching down toward water.
My feet burned and itched in the sweltering sandy dirt. When my toes dug further
under the baking sand, it was more tolerable. As I dragged the garden hose out
to the garden, the grass crunched like gravel under my feet. There had been no
cool relief in the brown shoots.
Slowly I showered the faux rain onto the thirsty leaves of the strawberries. The
sand turned darker, slurping the water as fast as
it came. The cicadas became almost deafening, then retreated to a quieter
chirping. Cracks in the earth filled up with water.
I wiped my forehead and considered showering the cool water onto my face. I
didn’t get a chance.
The buzz of two tiny, feathered wings came toward me from the muggy shade. A
male ruby-throated hummingbird peered at me closely. He sped away and came back.
He zipped through the water mist in the air, panting with his needle-sized beak
as he went. Back one way, the other, and again. I remained immovable.
The hummingbird found a birdsized puddle in a small opening among the strawberry
leaves. He dropped down in and looked at me. He flicked the refreshing water
onto his back with his swirling wing tips and eyed me. He writhed and shook and
wriggled – and watched me. I moved in barely visible increments to shower him
with water. He watched and panted, sticking his tongue out like a butterfly.
He blinked as the water gently pelted him, then returned to his bathing.
He almost looked giddy as the droplets of moisture ran down his bright,
iridescent red, green and grayish white feathers. Then, as
suddenly as he flew into the garden, he left. The event could have lasted two
minutes, or 10, I have no idea.
The cicadas grew louder now that I was not so intent on being still and silent.
My feet felt hot again and I swiped my forehead once more and walked wilting
from the heat to the house.
This experience reminded me about how you and I as believers can be a kind of
cool water to a thirsty world – with the spiritual water Jesus spoke of in John
4:13 and 14. And, we can do what Jesus directed in Matthew 10:42, “‘And whoever
in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones a cup of cold water
to drink, truly I say to you, he shall not lose his reward.”
Is someone you know thirsty today? Give them living water.
