I am not the only one with a puddle fascination.
The beagle Ann who lives at our house has not met a puddle she can resist. She
may walk by it one time but not twice. No, the second time she will stop for a
drink. It must be heaven sent to drink from a puddle in the driveway while on a
walk. Never mind that she has a bowl of fresh-out-of-the-faucet-water in the
house, the puddle must be better. In our yard, there is always a second option
the pond. The only thing that stops her there is if the water level is down she
will not lean over far enough to drink or the worse thing is bubbles.
The other day the circulating pump was on and as
the water fell into the pond it made some good sized bubbles. They would float
to the far side close to where she was standing and pop. Every time one popped
she jumped. Finally she could not take it anymore and left. Did I say she is a beagle?
They are known for their wimpy disposition.
This morning as we were outside in the dark
listening to the water fall from the trees, I thought about the puddles I drink
from at times. The puddles of doubt and unbelief, the puddle of anger,
discouragement, gluttony, overindulgence, envy, selfishness, self-doubt the
list goes on and on. I don’t drink from them all at once but all too often. It
is sad because just like the dog I have a source of clean, clear, satisfying,
safe drinking water but I chose to drink from the puddles of….they taste better
at the time but never satisfy.
Jesus is the “living water” from which if I
drink I will never thirst he told the woman by the well. He is our source but
that puddle of doubt looks so good and I am so thirsty I think. Or the puddle
of pressure and schedule says there is not enough time for a good drink of
Jesus. So instead of living water “clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of
God and of the Lamb” (Revelation 22:1) I drink from a dirty puddle filled with
salt water that while not ending my life today will kill me in the long run. A
puddle filled with the doubt of Thomas that wets my mouth but brings me no
satisfaction. Drinking out of ponds and puddles is what dogs do. They just do
that and seem to enjoy it much at least Ann does. So does my puddle practice
make me a dog?
Well, the answer is yes AND no. Yes, I have been
a dog relegated to drinking out of the puddles of sin since my birth. That was
all I knew and so that is what I did. No, because I am now a child of God
because Jesus came and sacrificed himself for me and my sin paying the debt I
owed but could never pay. He introduced me to the well of the water of life
that is his blood living water that satisfies for a life time. Yet I still
drink from the puddles every so often. If I will look up there is Jesus with
his hand outstretched holding a cup of water offering to me crystal clear water
from the river of life so I will be refreshed and revived once again.
Water is a marvelous metaphor. Seen in Baptism
as we are submerged and Jesus surrounds us we are “in Him” and then in the cup
at the Lord’s Supper when we take and drink He is “in us.”
No more puddles for me (drinking that is
stomping well that is another issue).
Ann can
drink from them. After all she likes it.
In HIS
Service and Yours,
The Rev
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