I have a plant on the edge of my bathtub.

It has a long strand of leaves that trails down, clinging desperately to life.

Do you see the irony?

I mean, it’s a little houseplant.  It barely needs any attention. Or water.  And there it is, on the edge of the most abundant water source ever, and, well…

it is wilted.

It has one yellow leaf, which I am telling myself is from over-watering, but let’s be honest. It went so long without water there in my bathroom surrounded by faucets that it is probably not coming back.

I did water it.

So, there is hope.

But I am leaving it there for now because it is serving as a powerful reminder: So often, I am that houseplant on the edge of the bathtub, inches from so much fresh water that I could drown in it, but not taking in any at all.

Wilting.

Have I immersed myself in the fresh fountain of God’s love for me in Christ? Have I bathed in the word, cleaning the dust of daily life from my soul? Have I drunk deep of the cup of living water, basking in the glory of the one who drank the cup of wrath in my place?

Jesus, let me be refreshed in you. And even in coming to you, I know that you are the one who leads me to the water, who refreshes me, who makes me new. You are the one who whispers to me, You are thirsty, daughter. Your Holy Spirit will complete this work you have begun, so I come to you asking for a renewed desire to seek you, and with the gratitude that comes from knowing you are abundantly faithful, good, and able to complete what you started.

Thank you for my friends who also seek you.  Thank you that you draw us near.